UNIVERSITY  OF   CALIFOR 


FORNIA    SAN  DIEGO 


3  1822  00601  6687 


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presented  to  the 
UNIVERSITY  LIBRARY 
UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
SAN  DIEGO 

by 


JAMES  A.   LEFWICH 


Central  University  Library 

University  of  California,  San  Diego 

Please  Note:  This  item  is  subject  to  recall 
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Date  Due 

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CI  39  (1/90) 

UCSDLib. 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  SAN  DIEGO 


3  1822  00601  6687 


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THE 


VISION; 


OB, 


HELL,  PURGATORY,  AND  PARADISE, 


OP 


DANTE  ALIGHIEPd. 


TKANSLATRD   BY 

THE   REV.   H.  F.   GARY,   A.M. 


T.   Y.    CROWBLL    &    CO..    BOSTON. 

1881. 


J.  Campbell, 

pkinteh, 

15  Vandewater  St.,  N.  Y. 


P  KEF  ACE. 


In  the  years  1805  and  1806,  I  j)ul)lished  the  first  part  of 

I  the  following  translation,  with  the  text  of  the  original. 

'  Since  that  period,  two  impressions  of  the  whole  of  the 

j  Divina  Commedia,  in  Italian,  have  made  their  appear 

i  ance  in  this  country.     It  is  not  necessary  that  I  should 

1  add  a  third  :  and  I  am  induced  to  hoj^e  that  the  Poem, 

j  even  in  the  present  version  of  it,  may  not  be  without 

j  interest  for  the  mere  EnoHsh  reader. 


The  translation  of  the  second  and  third  parts,  "  The 
Purgatory"  and  "The  Paradise,"  was  begun  long  before 
the  first,  and  as  early  as  the  year  1797  ;  but,  owing  to 
many  interruptions,  not  concluded  till  the  summer  before 
last.  On  a  retrospect  of  the  time  and  exertions  that 
have  been  thus  employed,  I  do  not  regard  those  hours  as 
the  least  happy  of  my  life,  during  which  (to  use  the 
eloquent  language  of  Mr.  Coleridge)  "my  individual 
recollections  have  been  suspended,  and  lulled  to  sleep 
amid  the  music  of  nobler  thoughts ; "  nor  that  study  as 
misapplied,  which  has  familiarized  me  with  one  of  the 
sublimest  efforts  of  the  human  invention. 

To  those,  who  shall  be  at  the  trouble  of  examimug 
into  the  degree  of  accuracy  Avith  which  the  task  has  been 


VI  PREFACE. 

executed,  I  may  be  allowed  to  suggest,  that  tlioir  judg- 
ment should  not  be  formed  on  a  comparison  with  any 
single  text  of  my  Author ;  since,  in  more  instances  than 
I  liave  noticed,  I  have  had  to  make  my  choice  out  of  a 
variety  of  readings  and  interpretations,  presented  by 
different  editions  and  commentators. 

In  one  or  two  of  those  editions  is  to  be  found  the 
title  of  "  The  Vision,"  which  I  have  adopted,  as  more 
conformable  to  the  genius  of  our  language  than  that 
of  "The  Divine  Comedy."  Dante  himself,  I  believe, 
termed  it  sim2:)ly  "  The  Comedy ; "  in  the  first  place, 
because  the  style  was  of  the  middle  kind:  and  in  the 
next,  because  the  story  (if  story  it  may  be  called)  ends 
happily. 

Instead  of  a  Life  of  my  Author,  I  have  subjoined,  in 
chronological  order,  a  view  not  only  of  the  princij)al 
events  which  befell  him,  but  of  the  chief  public  occur- 
rences that  happened  in  his  time :  concerning  both  of 
which  the  reader  may  obtain  further  information,  by 
turning  to  the  passages  referred  to  in  the  Poem  and 
Notes. 

January^  1814. 


A   CHEONOLOGICAL    VIEW 


TiHE  .A^a-E  o:r  iDj^isrrcjB. 


A.D. 

12G5  Dante,  son  of  Alighieri  degli  Alishieri  and  Bella,  is  born  at 
Florence.  Of  his  own  ancestry  he  speaks  in  the  Paradise,  Canto 
XV.  and  XVI. 

In  the  same  year,  Manfredi,  king  of  Naples  and  Sicily,  is  defeated 
and  slain  by  Charles  of  Aujoix.  Hell,  C.  XXVIII.  13.  and  I'lirga- 
tor>%  C.  III.  110. 

Guido  Novello  of  Polenta  obtains  the  sovereignty  of  Ravenna.  II. 
C.  XXVII.  38. 

1266  Two  of  the  Frati  Godenti  chosen  arbitrators  of  the  differences  at 
Florence.     H.  C.  XXIII.  104. 

Gianni  de'  Soldanieri  heads  the  populace  in  tliat  city.  H.  C. 
XXXII.  118. 

1268  Cliarles  of  Anjou  puts  Conradine  to  death,  and  becomes  King  of 
Naples.    H.  C.  XXVIII.  16.  and  Purg.  C.  XX.  66. 

1272  Henry  III.  of  England  is  succeeded  by  Edward  I.  Purg.  C.  VII. 
129. 

1274  Our  Poet  first  sees  Beatrice,  daughter  of  Folco  Portinari.  I'ra. 
Guittone  d'Arezzo,  the  poet,  dies.  Purg.  C.  XXIV.  56. 

Thomas  Aquinas  dies.     Purg.  C.  XX.  67.  and  Par.  C.  X.  96. 
Buonaveutura  dies.    Par.  C.  XII.  25. 

1275  Pierre  de  la  Brosse,  secretary  to  Philip  III.  of  France,  executed. 
Purg.  C.  VI.  23. 

1276  Giotto,  the  painter,  is  born.  Purg.  C.  XI.  95.  Pope  Adrian  V. 
dies.     Purg.  C.  XIX.  97. 

Guido  Guiuicelli,  the  poet,  dies.    Purg.  C.  XL  96.  and  C.  XXVI.  8S. 

1277  Pope  John  XXI.  dies.    Par,  C.  XII.  126. 


'l278  pttocar, 

king  of  Bohemia,  dies. 

Purg.  C.  VU.  97. 

(vii) 

via  A    CIIIIONOLOGICAL    VIKW    OF 

1279  Diuiiysiiis  hucccccIh  to  tlie  throne  of  Portugal.     Par.  C.  XIX.  135 

1280  Albcrtiis  Maxims  dies.    Par.  C.  X.  95. 

1281  Pope  Nicholas  III.  dies.    H.  C.  XIX.  71. 

Dante  studies  at  the  universities  of  Bologna  and  Padua. 

1282  The  Sicilian  vespers.    Par.  C.  VIII.  80. 

The  Frciicli  defeated  by  the  people  of  Forli.    II.  C.  XXVII.  41. 
Tribaldello  dc'  Maufredi  betrays  the  city  of  Facnza.     II.  C.  XXXII. 
119. 

1284  Prince  Charles  of  Aujou  is  defeated  and  made  prisoner  by  Rngier 
de  Lauria,  admiral  to  Peter  III.  of  Arraj^on.     Pnrg.  C.  XX.  78. 
Charles  I.  king  of  Naples,  dies.     Purg.  C.  VII  111. 

1285  Pope  Martin  IV.  dies.     Purg.  C.  XXIV.  2.3. 
Philip  III.  of  France,  and  Peter  III.  of  Arragon,  die. 
Purg.  C.  VII.  101,  and  110. 

Henry  11.  king  of  Cyprus,  comes  to  the  throne.     Par.  C.  XIX.  144. 

1287  Guldo  dalle  Colonne  (mentioned  by  Dante  in  his  De  Vulgari  Elo- 
quio)  writes  "  The  War  of  Troy." 

1288  Haquin,  king  of  Norway,  makes  war  on  Denmark.     Par.  C.  XIX 
l.SS. 

Count  Ugolino  de'  Gherardeschi  dies  of  famine.    H.  C.  XXXII  I.  14. 

1289  Dante  is  in  the  battle  of  Campaldino,  where  the  Florentines  defeat 
the  people  of  Arezzo,  June  11.    Purg.  C.  V.  90. 

1290  Beatrice  dies.    Purg.  C.  XXXII.  2. 

He  serves  in  the  war  waged  by  the  Florentines  upon  the  Pisans, 
and  is  present  at  the  surrender  of  Caproua  in  the  autumn.  H.  C 
XXI.  92. 

1291  He  marries  Gemma  de'  Donati,  with  whom  he  lives  unhappily.   By 
this  marriage  he  had  five  sons  and  a  daughter. 

Can  Grande  della  Scala  is  born.  March  9.    H.  C.  I.  08.    Purg.  C. 

XX.  16.    Par.  C.  XVII.  75.  and  XXVII.  135. 

The  renegade  Cliristians  assist  the  Saracens  to  recover  St.  John 

D'Acre.    H.  C.  XXVII.  84. 

The  Emperor  Rodolph  dies.    Pnrg.  C.  VI.  lOt.  and  VII.  91. 

Alonzo  III.  of  Arragon  dies,  and  is  succeeded  by  James  II.    Purg. 

C.  VII.  113.  and  Par.  C.  XIX.  133, 

1294  Clement  V.  abdicates  the  papal  chair.     H.  C.  III.  56. 
Dante  writes  his  Vita  Nuova. 

1295  His  preceptor,  Brunetto  Latini,  dies.     H.  C.  XV.  28. 

Charles  Martel,  king  of  Hungary,  visits  Florence,  Par.  C.  VIII.  57. 
and  dies  in  the  same  year. 

Frederick,  son  of  Peter  III.  of  Arragon,  becomes  king  of  Sicily. 
Purg.  C.  VII.  117.  and  Par.  C.  XIX.  127. 

1296  Forese,  tlie  coiupaniou  of  Dante,  dies.     Purg.  C.  XXXIII.  44. 


THE    AGE    OP    DANTE.  IX 

1300  The  Bianca  and  Ncra  parties  take  their  rise  in  Pistoia.  II.  C. 
XXXII.  GO. 

This  is  the  year  in  which  he  supposes  liimself  to  see  his  Vision.    II. 

C.  1. 1.  and  XXI.  109. 

Ho  is  chosen  cliief  magistrate,  or  first  of  the  Priors  of  Florence  ; 

and  continues  in  office  from  June  15  to  August  15. 

Cimabue,  tlie  painter,  dies.    Purg.  C  XI.  93. 

Guido  Cavalcanti,  the  most  beloved  of  our  Poet's  friends,  dies.    II. 

C.  X.  59.  and  Purg.  C.  XI.  9G. 

1301  The  Bianca  party  expels  the  Nera  from  Pistoia.    H.  C.  XXIV.  142. 

1302  January  27.  During  his  absence  at  Rome,  Dante  is  mulcted  by  his 
fellow-citizens  in  the  sum  of  8000  lire,  and  condemned  to  two  years' 
banishment. 

March  10.    He  is  sentenced,  if  taken,  to  be  burned. 

Fulcieri  de'  Calboli  commits  great  atrocities  on  certain  of  the  Glii- 

belline  party.     Purg.  C  XIV.  01. 

Carlino  de'  Pazzi  betrays  the  castle  di  Piano  Travigne,  in  Valdarno, 

to  the  Florentines.     H.  C.  XXXII.  67. 

The  French  vanquished  in  the  battle  of  Courtrai.     Purg.  C.  XX.  47. 

James,  king  of  Majorca  and  Minorca,  dies.    Par.  C  XIX.  133. 

1303  Pope  Boniface  VIII.  dies.  H.  C.  XIX.  55.  Purg.  G.  XX.  86. 
XXXII.  14G.  and  Par.  C.  XXVII.  20. 

The  other  exiles  appoint  Dante  one  of  a  council  of  twelve,  under 
Alessandro  da  Romena. 

Ho  appears  to  have  been  much  dissatisfied  with  his  colleagues. 
Par.  C.  XVII.  61. 

1304  He  joins  with  the  exiles  in  an  unsuccessful  attack  on  the  city  of 
Florence. 

May.  The  bridge  over  the  Arno  breaks  down  during  a  representa- 
tion of  the  infernal  torments  exhibited  on  that  river.  II.  C. 
XXVI.  9. 

July  20.  Petrarch,  whose  father  had  been  banished  two  years  be- 
fore from  Florence,  is  born  at  Arezzo. 

1305  Winceslaus  II.  king  of  Bohemia,  dies.  Purg.  G.  VII.  99.  and  Par. 
G.  XIX.  123. 

A  conflagration  happens  at  Florence.    H.  G.  XXVI.  9. 

1306  Dante  visits  Padua. 

1307  He  is  in  Lunigiana  with  the  Marchese  Marcello  Malaspina.  Purg. 
G.  VIII.  133.  and  G.  XIX.  140. 

Dolcino,  tlie  fanatic,  is  burned.    H.  G.  XXVIII.  53. 

1308  The  Emperor  Albert  I.  murdered.  Purg.  G.  VI.  98.  and  Par.  G. 
XIX.  114. 

Gorso  Donati,  Dante's  political  enemy,  slain.    Purg.  G.  XXIV.  81. 
He  seeks  an  asylum  at  Verona,  under  the  roof  of  the  Signori  della 
Scala.     Par,  G.  XVII.  69.    He  wanders,  about  this  time,  over  va- 
rious parts  of  Italy.     See  his  Gonvito.    He  is  at  Paris  twice  ;  and, 
as  one  of  the  early  commentators  reports,  at  Oxford. 

1309  Gharles  II.  king  of  N.aplcs,  dies.     Par.  G.  XIX.  125. 


T 


X  CHRONOLOGTOAI.    VIEAV    OF    DANTE. 

1310  The  Order  of  the  Templars  abolished.    Purg.  C.  XX.  94. 

1313  The  Emperor  Henry  of  Liixembiirg,  by  whom  he  lind  hoped  to  be 
restored  to  Florence,  dies.     I'lir.  C.  XVII.  <S0.  and  XXX.  l.'!5. 

He  takes  refuge  at  Ravenna  with  Giiido  Novello  da  I'olcnta. 

1314  Pope  Clement  V.  dies.  II.  C  XIX.  86.  and  Par.  C.  XXVII.  53.  and 
XXX.  141. 

Philip  IV.  of  France  dies.    Purg.  C  VII.  108.  and  Par.  C.  XIX.  117 

Ferdinand  IV.  of  Spain,  dies.     Par.  C  XIX.  122. 

Giacopo  da  Carrara  defeated  by  Can  Grande.    Par.  C.  IX.  45. 

131G  John  XXII.  elected  Pope.    Par.  C.  XXVII.  53. 

1321  Jnly.  Dante  dies  at  Ravenna,  of  a  complaint  brought  on  by  disap- 
pointment at  his  failure  in  a  negotiation  which  he  had  been  con- 
ducting with  the  Venetians,  for  his  patron  Guido  Novello  da 
Polenta. 

His  obsequies  are  sumptuously  performed  at  Ravenna  by  Guido, 
who  himself  died  in  the  ensuing  year. 


HELL. 


CANTO  I. 

In  the  midway  of  this  our  mortal  life, 

I  found  me  in  a  gloomy  wood,  astray 

Gone  from  the  i)ath  direct :  and  e'en  to  tell 

It  were  no  easy  task,  how  savage  wild 

That  forest,  how  robust  and  rough  its  growth,  5 

Which  to  remember  only,  my  dismay 

Renews,  in  bitterness  not  far  from  death. 

Yet  to  discourse  of  Avhat  there  good  befell. 

All  else  will  I  relate  discover'd  there. 

How  first  I  entcr'd  it  I  scarce  can  say,  10 

Such  sleepy  dulness  in  that  instant  weigh'd 
My  senses  down,  when  the  true  path  I  left, 
But  when  a  mountain's  foot  I  reach'd,  where  clos'd 
The  valley,  tliat  had  pierc'd  my  heart  with  dread, 
I  look'd  aloft,  and  saw  his  shoulders  broad  15 

Already  vested  with  that  planet's  beam, 
Who  leads  all  wanderers  safe  through  every  way. 

Then  was  a  little  respite  to  the  fear. 
That  in  my  heart's  recesses  deep  had  lain, 
All  of  that  night,  so  jntifuUy  ])ass'd  :  20 

And  as  a  man,  with  difficult  short  breath, 
Forespent  with  toiling,  'scap'd  from  sea  to  shore, 
Turns  to  the  perilous  wide  waste,  and  stands 
At  gaze  ;  e'en  so  my  spirit,  that  yet  fail'd 
Struggling  with  terror,  turu'd  to  view  the  straits,  25 


2  HELL. 

That  none  liath  pass'd  and  liv'd.     My  weary  frame 

After  slioi't  i)aiise  reeoinfurted,  again 

I  journey'd  on  over  that  lonely  steep, 

The  hinder  foot  still  firmer.     Scarce  the  ascent 

Began,  when,  lo  !  a  panther,  nimble,  light,  30 

And  cover'd  with  a  speckled  skin,  ajipear'd, 

Nor,  when  it  saw  me,  yanish'd,  rather  strove 

To  check  my  onward  going  ;  that  ofttimes 

With  purpose  to  retrace  my  steps  I  turn'd. 

The  hour  was  morning's  prime,  and  on  his  way  35 

Aloft  the  sun  ascended  with  those  stars. 
That  with  him  rose,  when  Love  divine  first  mov'd 
Those  its  fair  works  :  so  that  with  joyous  hope 
All  things  conspir'd  to  fill  me,  the  gay  skin 
Of  that  swift  animal,  the  matin  dawn  40 

And  the  sweet  season.     Soon  that  joy  was  chas'd, 
And  by  new  dread  succeeded,  when  in  view 
A  lion  came,  'gainst  me,  as  it  api^ear'd, 
With  his  head  held  aloft  and  hunger-mad, 
That  e'en  the  air  was  fear-struck.     A  she-wolf  45 

Was  at  his  heels,  who  in  her  leanness  seem'd 
Full  of  all  wants,  and  many  a  land  hath  made 
Disconsolate  ere  now.     She  with  such  fear 
O'erwhelmed  me,  at  the  sight  of  her  appall'd, 
That  of  the  height  all  hope  I  lost.     As  one,  50 

Who  with  his  gain  elated,  sees  the  time 
When  all  unwares  is  gone,  he  inwardly 
Mourns  with  heart-griping  anguish ;  such  was  I, 
Haunted  by  that  fell  beast,  never  at  jieace. 
Who  coming  o'er  against  me,  by  degrees  65 

ImpelI'd  me  where  the  sun  in  silence  rests. 

While  to  the  lower  space  with  backward  step 
I  fell,  my  ken  discern'd  the  form  of  one. 
Whose  voice  seem'd  faint  through  long  disuse  of  speech. 
When  him  in  that  great  desert  I  espied,  60 

"  Have  mercy  on  me !  "  cried  I  out  aloud, 
"  Spirit !  or  living  man  !  whate'er  thou  be  !  " 

He  answer'd  :  "  Now  not  man,  man  once  I  was, 
And  born  of  Lombard  parents,  Mantuans  both 
By  country,  wlien  the  power  of  Julius  yet  65 


Was  scarcely  firm.     At  Rome  my  life  was  past 

Beneath  the  mild  Augustus,  in  the  time 

Of  fabled  deities  and  false.     A  bard 

"Was  I,  and  made  Anehises'  u]»right  son 

The  subject  of  my  song,  who  came  from  Troy,  7C 

When  the  flames  prey'd  on  Ilium's  haughty  towers. 

Hut  thou,  say  wherefore  to  such  perils  i)ast 

Keturn'st  thou  ?  wherefore  not  this  pleasant  mount 

Ascendest,  cause  and  source  of  all  delight  ?  " 

"And  art  thou  then  that  Virgil,  that  well-spring,  75 

From  which  such  cojnous  floods  of  eloquence 

Have  issued  ?  "  I  with  front  abash'd  rei)lied. 

"Glory  and  light  of  all  the  tuneful  train  ! 

May  it  avail  me,  that  I  long  with  zeal 

Have  sought  thy  volume,  and  Avith  love  immense  80 

Have  conn'd  it  o'er.     My  master  thou  and  guide ! 

Thou  he  from  whom  alone  I  have  deriv'd 

That  style,  which  for  its  beauty  into  fame 

Exalts  me.     See  the  beast,  from  whom  I  fled. 

O  save  me  from  her,  thou  illustrious  sage!  85 

For  every  vein  and  pulse  throughout  my  frame 

She  hath  made  tremble."     He,  soon  as  he  saw 

That  I  was  weeping,  answer'd,  "  Thou  must  needs 

Another  way  pursue,  if  thou  Avouldst  'scape 

From  out  that  savage  wilderness.     This  beast,  90 

At  whom  thou  criest,  her  way  will  suffer  none 

To  pass,  and  no  less  hindrance  makes  than  death: 

So  bad  and  so  accursed  in  her  kind. 

That  never  sated  is  her  ravenous  will. 

Still  after  food  more  craving  than  before.  95 

To  many  an  animal  in  wedlock  vile 

She  fastens,  and  shall  yet  to  many  more, 

Until  that  greyhound  come,  who  shall  destroy 

Her  with  sharp  jtain.     He  Avill  not  life  support 

By  earth  nor  its  base  metals,  but  by  \ove,  100 

Wisdom,  and  virtue,  and  his  land  shall  be 

The  land  'twixt  either  Feltro.     In  his  might 

Shall  safety  to  Italia's  plains  arise. 

For  whose  fair  realm,  Camilla,  virgin  pure, 

Nisus,  Euryalus,  and  Turnus  fell.  105 


4  HKLL. 

lie  witli  incessant  chase  througli  every  town 
Sliall  worry,  until  he  to  hell  at  length 
Kestore  her,  thence  hy  envy  first  let  loose. 
I  for  thy  profit  })on(rring'  now  devise, 
Tliat  thou  inayst  follow  nie,  and  I  thy  guide  110 

Will  lead  thee  hence  through  an  eternal  space, 
Where  thou  shalt  hear  despairing  slirieks,  and  see 
Spirits  of  old  tormented,  who  invoke 
A  second  death  ;  and  those  next  view,  who  dwell 
Content  in  fire,  for  that  tliey  hope  to  come,  115 

Whene'er  the  time  may  he,  among  the  blest, 
Into  whose  regions  if  thou  then  desire 
T'  ascend,  a  spirit  worthier  than  I 
Must  lead  thee,  in  whose  charge,  when  I  dej^art, 
Thou  shalt  be  left :  for  that  Almighty  King,  120 

Who  reigns  above,  a  rebel  to  his  law. 
Adjudges  me,  and  therefore  hath  decreed, 
That  to  his  city  none  through  me  shoiild  come. 
He  in  all  parts  hath  sway  ;  there  rules,  there  holds 
His  citadel  and  throne,     O  happy  those,  125 

Whom  there  he  chooses  !  "     I  to  liim  in  few  : 
"  Bard  !  by  that  God,  whom  thou  didst  not  adore, 
I  do  beseech  thee  (that  this  ill  and  worse 
I  may  escape)  to  lead  me,  where  thou  saidst. 
That  I  Saint  Peter's  gate  may  view,  and  tliose  130 

Who,  as  thou  tell'st,  are  in  such  dismal  jjlight." 
Onward  he  mov'd,  I  close  his  stej^s  pursu'd. 


CANTO  n. 

Now  was  the  day  departing,  and  the  air, 
Imbrown'd  with  shadows,  from  their  toils  releas'd 
All  animals  on  earth  ;  and' I  alone 
Prepar'd  myself  the  conflict  to  sustain. 
Both  of  sad  ]uty,  and  that  perilous  road, 
Wliicli  my  unerring  memory  shall  retrace. 

O  Muses  !  O  high  genius  !  now  vouchsafe 
Your  aid  !  O  mind  !  that  all  I  saw  hast  kept 
Safe  in  a  written  record,  here  thy  worth 


ITELL.  0 

And  eminent  endowments  come  to  proof.  10 

I  tluis  bei^an  :  "  Hard  !  tliou  wlio  art  my  gMiide, 
Consider  Avell,  if  virtue  be  in  me 
Sufficient,  ere  to  this  liij^'li  enterprise 
Thou  trust  me.     Tliou  hast  tohl  tliat  Silvius'  sire, 
Yet  clotird  in  corruptible  flesh,  among  15 

Th'  immortal  tribes  had  entrance,  and  was  there 
Sensibly  present.     Yet  if  heaven's  great  Lord, 
Almighty  foe  to  ill,  such  favour  shew'd. 
In  contemplation  of  the  high  effect, 

Both  what  and  who  from  liim  should  issue  forth,  20 

It  seems  in  reason's  judgment  well  deserv'd  : 
Sith  he  of  Rome,  and  of  Rome's  empire  wide, 
In  heaven's  empyreal  height  was  chosen  sire  : 
Both  which,  if  truth  be  s])oken,  were  ordain'd 
And  'stablish'd  for  the  holy  ])lace,  where  sits  25 

Who  to  great  Peter's  sacred  chair  succeeds. 
He  from  this  journey,  in  thy  song  renown'd, 
Learn'd  things,  that  to  his  victory  gave  rise 
And  to  the  papal  robe.     In  after-times 
Tlie  chosen  A'essel  also  travel'd  there,  30 

To  bring  us  back  assurance  in  that  faith, 
Which  is  the  entrance  to  salvation's  way. 
But  I,  why  should  I  there  presume  ?  or  who 
Permits  it?  not  iEneas  I  nor  Paul. 

Myself  I  deem  not  worthy,  and  none  else  35 

Will  deem  me.     I,  if  on  this  voyage  then 
I       I  venture,  fear  it  will  in  folly  end. 
I       Thou,  who  art  wise,  better  my  meaning  knoAv'st, 
I       'J'han  I  can  speak."     As  one,  who  unresolves 
I       What  he  hath  late  resolv'd,  and  with  new  thoughts       40 
I       Changes  his  purpose,  from  his  first  intent 
J       Remov'd  ;  e'en  such  was  I  on  that  dun  coast, 
I       Wasting  in  thought  my  ejiterprise,  at  first 
I       So  eagerly  embrac'd.     "  If  right  tliy  words 
I       I  scan,"  replied  that  shade  magnanimous,  45 

I       "  Thy  soul  is  by  vile  fear  assail'd,  which  oft 
i       So  overcasts  a  man,  that  he  recoils 
\       From  noblest  resolution,  like  a  beast 
i       At  some  false  semblance  in  the  twilight  gloom. 


HELL. 


Tliat  from  tliis  tovror  llion  niayst  free  thyself,  50 

I  will  insrnu't  tlico  why  I  came,  and  what 
I  lieard  in  that  sanio  histant,  when  for  thee 
Grief  tonch'd  me  first.     I  was  among  the  tribe, 
Who  rest  suspended,  when  a  dame,  so  blest 
And  lovely,  I  besoiight  her  to  command,  55 

Call'd  me ;  her  eyes  were  brighter  than  the  star 
Of  day ;  and  she  wuth  gentle  voice  and  soft 
Angelically  tun'd  her  speech  address'd  : 
'  0  courteous  shade  of  Mantua  !  thou  whose  fame 
Yet  lives,  and  shall  live  long  as  nature  lasts  !  60 

'  A  friend,  not  of  my  fortune  but  myself, 
'  On  the  wide  desert  in  his  road  has  met 
'  Hindrance  so  great,  that  he  through  fear  has  turn'd. 
'Now  much  I  dread  lest  he  past  help  have  stray'd, 
'  And  I  be  ris'n  too  late  for  his  relief,  65 

'  From  Avhat  in  heaven  of  him  I  heard.     Speed  now, 
'  And  by  thy  eloquent  ])ersuasive  tongue, 
'  And  by  all  means  for  his  deliverance  meet, 
'Assist  him.     So  to  me  will  comfort  spring. 
'  I  Avho  now  bid  thee  on  this  eri-and  forth  70 

'  Am  Beatrice ;  *  from  a  place  I  come 
'  Revisited  wath  joy.     Love  brought  me  thence, 
'  Who  prompts  my  speech.     When  in  my  Master's  sight 
'  I  stand,  thy  praisti  to  him  I  oft  will  tell.' 
'      "  She  then  was  silent,  and  I  thus  began  :  75 

'O  Lady!  by  whose  influence  alone, 
'  ]\Iankind  excels  Aviiatever  is  contain'd 
'  Within  that  heavi.'u  which  hath  the  smallest  orb, 
'  So  thy  command  delights  me,  that  to  obey, 
'  If  it  w^ere  done  already,  would  seem  late.  80 

'  No  need  hast  thou  farther  to  speak  thy  will ; 
'  Yet  tell  the  reason,  why  thou  art  not  loth 
'  To  leave  that  ample  space,  where  to  return 
*  Thou  burnest,  for  this  centre  here  beneath.' 

"  She  then  :  'Since  thou  so  deeply  -svoiddst  inquire,  85 
'  I  will  instruct  thee  briefly,  Avhy  no  dread 
'  Hinders  my  entrance  here.     Those  things  alone 

*  Ixise  thia  word,  as  it  is  pronounced  in  tlie  Italian,  as  consisting  of  four 
syllables,  of  which  tlie  third  is  a  long  one. 


IIETJ,.  i 

'Arc  to  bo  fear'd,  wlienoe  ovil  may  j^roceed, 

'None  else,  for  none  are  terrible  beside. 

'I  am  so  franiM  ])y  God,  tlianks  to  bis  grace!  90 

'  Tbat  any  suff'rance  of  your  misery 

'  Toiiclies  me  not,  nor  flame  of  tbat  fierce  fire 

'Assails  me.     In  bigb  beaven  a  blessed  dame 

'  Besides,  wbo  mourns  witb  sucb  eifectual  grief 

'  Tbat  liindranc^,  wbicb  I  send  tbee  to  remove,  95 

'Tbat  God's  stern  judgment  to  ber  will  inclines. 

'  To  Lucia  calling,  ber  sbe  tbus  bespake : 

"  Now  dotb  tby  faitbful  servant  need  tby  aid, 

"  And  I  commend  bim  to  tbee."     At  ber  word 

'  Sj)ed  Lucia,  of  all  cruelty  tbe  foe,  100 

'  And  coming  to  tbe  place,  wbere  I  abode 

'  Seated  witb  Racbel,  ber  of  ancient  days, 

'  Sbe  tbus  address'd  me :  "  Tbou  true  praise  of  God  ! 

"Beatrice !  Avby  is  not  tby  succour  lent 

"To  bim,  wbo  so  mucb  lov'd  tbee,  as  to  leave  105 

"  For  tby  sake  all  tbe  multitude  admires  ? 

"  Dost  tbou  not  bear  bow  pitiful  bis  wail, 

"  Nor  mark  tbe  deatb,  Avbicb  in  tbe  torrent  flood, 

"Swoln  migbtier  tban  a  sea,  bim  struggling  holds?" 

'Ne'er  among  men  did  any  witb  sucb  speed  110 

'  Haste  to  tbeir  profit,  flee  from  tbeir  annoy, 

'  As  when  tbese  words  were  sj^oken,  I  came  bere, 

'  Down  from  my  blessed  seat,  trusting  tbe  force 

'  Of  tby  pure  eloquence,  wbicb  tbee,  and  all 

'  Wbo  well  bavc  mark'd  it,  into  bonour  brings.'  115 

"Wben  sbe  bad  ended,  ber  brigbt  beaming  eyes 
Tearful  sbe  turn'd  aside  ;  wbereat  I  felt 
Redoubled  zeal  to  serve  tbee.     As  sbe  will'd, 
Tbus  am  I  come  :  I  sav'd  tbee  from  tbe  beast, 
Wbo  tby  near  way  across  tbe  goodly  mount  120 

Prevented.     Wbat  is  tbis  comes  o'er  tbee  tben  ? 
Wby,  wby  dost  tbou  bang  back  ?  wby  in  tby  breast 
Harbour  vile  fear?  wby  bast  not  courage  tbere 
And  noble  daring  ?     Since  tbree  maids  so  blest 
•Tby  safety  plan,  e'en  in  tbe  court  of  heaven;  125 

And  so  mucb  certain  good  my  words  forebode." 

As  florets,  by  tbe  frosty  air  of  night 


~\- 


IIKT-L. 


Bont  (lo-\v7i  and  closM,  wlioii  day  lias  blancli'd  tlicir  leaves, 

Kise  all  unfolded  on  their  s])ii'y  stems  ; 

So  was  my  fainting  vigour  new  restoi'M,  130 

And  to  my  heart  sueh  kin<lly  eoui'age  ran, 

That  I  as  one  undaunted  soon  replied  : 

"O  full  of  ])ity  she,  who  undertook 

My  succour !  and  thou  kind  who  didst  perform 

So  soon  her  true  behest !     With  such  desire  135 

Thou  hast  dispos'd  me  to  renew  my  voyage, 

That  my  first  purpose  fully  is  resum'd. 

Lead  on :  one  only  will  is  in  us  Loth. 

Thou  art  my  guide,  my  master  thou,  and  lord," 

So  spake  I ;  and  when  he  had  onward  raov'd,  140 

I  enter'd  on  the  deep  and  woody  way. 

CANTO  III. 

"  Through  me  you  pass  into  the  city  of  woe : 

Through  me  you  j^ass  into  eternal  pain  : 

Through  me  among  the  people  lost  for  aye. 

Justice  the  founder  of  my  fabric  mov'd  : 

To  rear  me  was  the  task  of  power  divine,  5 

Su])reniest  wusdom,  and  primeval  love. 

Before  me  things  create  were  none,  save  things 

Eternal,  and  eternal  I  endure. 

All  hojte  abandon  ye  who  enter  here." 

Sueh  characters  in  colour  dim  I  mark'd  10 

Over  a  portal's  lofty  arch  inscrib'd  : 
Vv^hereat  I  thus  :     "  Mastei",  these  words  import 
Hard  meaning."     He  as  one  prejjar'd  replied  : 
"  Here  thou  must  all  distrust  behind  thee  leave  ; 
Here  be  vile  fear  extinguish'd.     We  are  come  15 

Where  I  have  told  thee  we  shall  see  the  souls 
To  misery  doom'd,  who  intellectual  good 
Have  lost."     And  wlien  his  hand  lie  had  stretch'd  forth 
To  mine,  with  ])leasant  looks,  whence  I  was  cheer'd, 
Into  that  secret  ])lace  he  led  me  on.  -0 

Here  sighs  with  lamentations  and  loud  moans 
Besounded  through  the  air  pierc'd  by  no  star, 


HELL,  y 

That  e'en  I  wept  at  entering.     Various  tongues, 

Horrible  languages,  outcries  of  woe. 

Accents  of  anger,  voices  deep  and  hoarse,  25 

With  hands  togetlier  smote  that  swell'd  the  sounds, 

Made  uj)  a  tuniult,  that  for  eA'er  whirls 

Kound  through  that  air  with  solid  darkness  staiu'd, 

Like  to  the  sand  that  in  the  whirlwind  Hies. 

I  then,  with  error  yet  encompass'd,  cried  :  30 

"  O  master  !  what  is  this  I  hear  V  what  race 
Are  these,  who  seem  so  overcome  with  woe?" 

He  thus  to  me  :  "  This  miserable  fate 
Suffer  the  wretched  souls  of  those,  who  liv'd 
Without  or  praise  or  blame,  with  that  ill  band  35 

Of  angels  mix'd,  who  nor  rebellious  prov'd 
Nor  yet  were  true  to  God,  but  for  themselves 
Were  only.     From  his  bounds  Heaven  drove  them  forth, 
Not  to  impair  his  lustre,  nor  tlie  depth 
Of  Hell  receives  them,  lest  th'  accursed  -tribe  40 

Should  glory  thence  with  exultation  vain." 

I  then  :  "  Master  !  what  doth  aggrieve  them  thus, 
That  they  lament  so  loud  ?  "     He  straight  replied : 
"  That  will  I  tell  thee  biiefly.     These  of  deathr 
No  hope  may  entertain  :  and  their  blind  life  45 

So  meanly  passes,  that  all  other  lots 
They  envy.     Fame  of  them  the  world  hath  none, 
Nor  suffers  ;  mercy  and  justice  scorn  them  both. 
Speak  not  of  them,  but  look,  and  pass  them  by." 

And  I,  wlio  straightway  look'd,  beheld  a  flag,  50 

Whicli  whirling  ran  around  so  rapidly, 
'Tlu'.t  it  no  pause  obtain'd  :  and  followiaig  came 
Such  a  long  train  of  spirits,  I  should  ne'er 
Have  thought,  that  death  so  many  had  despoil'd. 

When  some  of  these  I  recogniz'd,  I  saw  55 

And  knew  the  shade  of  him,  who  to  base  fear 
Yielding,  abjur'd  his  high  estate.     Forthwith 
I  understood  for  certnni  this  the  tribe 
Of  those  ill  spirits  both  to  God  displeasing 
And  to  his  foes.     These  wretches,  who  ne'er  lived,        60 
Went  on  in  nakedness,  and  s6rely  stung 
J^y  was])S  and  hoi'uets,  which  bedew'd  their  cliceks 


10  HELL. 

With  l)loo(l,  thai,  mix'd  witli  tears  dropp'd  to  their  feet, 
And  by  disgustful  worms  wns  gather'd  there. 

Tlieu  looking  farther  onwards  I  beheld  65 

A  throng  vipon  the  shore  of  a  great  stream  : 
Whereat  I  thus:  "  Sir  !  grant  me  now  to  know 
Whom  here  we  view,  and  whence  im^^ell'd  tliey  seem 
So  eager  to  pass  o'er,  as  I  discern 

Through  the  blear  light?  "     He  thus  to  me  in  few  :        70 
"  This  shalt  thou  know,  soon  as  our  steps  arrive 
Beside  the  woeful  tide  of  Acheron." 

Then  with  eyes  downward  cast  and  fill'd  with  shame, 
Fearing  my  words  offensive  to  his  ear. 
Till  we  had  reach'd  the  river,  I  from  speech  75 

Abstain'd.     And  lo  !  toward  us  in  a  bark 
Comes  on  an  old  man  hoary  white  with  eld, 
Crying,  "  Woe  to  you  wicked  si^irits  !  hope  not 
Ever  to  see  the  sky  again.     I  come 

To  take  you  to  the  other  shore  across,  80 

Into  eternal  darkness,  there  to  dwell 
In  fierce  heat  and  in  ice.     And  thou,  who  there 
Standest,  live  spirit !  get  thee  hence,  and  leave 
These  who  are  dead."     But  soon  as  he  beheld 
I  left  them  not,  "  By  other  way,"  said  he,  85 

"  By  other  haven  shalt  thou  come  to  shore, 
Not  by  this  passage  ;  thee  a  nimbler  boat 
Must  carry."     Then  to  him  thus  spake  my  guide: 
"  Charon  !  thyself  torment  not :  so  't  is  will'd. 
Where  will  and  power  are  one  :  ask  thou  no  more."      90 

Straiijclitway  in  silence  fell  the  shaggy  cheeks 
Of  him  the  boatman  o'er  the  livid  lake. 
Around  whose  eyes  glar'd  wheeling  flames.     Meanwhile 
Those  spirits,  faint  and  naked,  color  chang'd. 
And  gnash'd  their  teeth,  soon  as  the  cruel  words  95 

They  heard.     God  and  their  pai-ents  they  blasphem'd, 
The  human  kind,  the  place,  tlie  time,  and  seed 
That  did  engender  them  and  give  them  birth. 

Then  all  together  sorely  wailing  drew 
To  the  curs'd  strand,  that  every  man  must  pass  100 

Who  fears  not  God.     Charon,  demoniac  form, 
With  eyes  (Jf  burning  coal,  collects  them  all. 


HRLL.  11 

Bcck'iiing,  and  eacli,  that  lingers,  witli  liis  oar 

Strikes.     As  fall  off  the  light  aiitumnal  leaves, 

One  still  another  following,  till  tlie  l)Ough  105 

Strews  all  its  honours  on  the  earth  beneath  ; 

E'en  in  like  manner  Adam's  evil  brood 

Cast  themselves  one  by  one  down  from  the  shore, 

Each  at  a  beck,  as  falcon  at  his  caU. 

Thus  go  they  over  through  the  umber'd.  wave,  110 

And  ever  they  on  the  opposing  bank 
Be  landed,  on  this  side  another  throng 
Still  gathers.     "  Son,"  thus  spake  the  courteous  guide, 
"  Those,  who  die  subject  to  the  wrath  of  God, 
All  here  together  come  from  every  clime,  115 

And  to  o'erpass  the  river  are  not  loth : 
For  so  heaven's  justice  goads  them  on,  that  fear 
Is  turn'd  into  desire.     Hence  ne'er  hath  past 
Good  spirit.     If  of  thee  Charon  complain. 
Now  mayst  thou  know  the  import  of  his  words."         120 

This  said,  the  gloomy  region  trembling  shook 
So  terribly,  that  yet  with  clammy  dews 
Fear  chills  my  brow.     The  sad  earth  gave  a  blast. 
That,  lightening,  shot  forth  a  vermilion  flame. 
Which  all  my  senses  conquer'd  quite,  and  I  125 

Down  dropp'd,  as  one  with  sudden  slumber  seiz'd. 


CANTO  IV. 

Broke  the  deep  slumber  in  my  brain  a  crash 
Of  heavy  thunder,  that  I  shook  myself. 
As  one  by  main  force  rous'd.     Riseit  upright, 
My  rested  eyes  I  mov'd  around,  and  search'd 
With  fixed  ken  to  know  what  place  it  was,  5 

Wherein  I  stood.     For  certain  on  the  brink 
I  found  me  of  the  lamentable  vale, 
The  dread  abyss,  that  joins  a  thund'rous  sound 
Of  plaints  innumerable.     Dark  and  deep. 
And  thick  Avdth  clouds  o'erspread,  mine  eye  in  vain        10 
Explor'd  its  bottom,  nor  could  aught  discern. 
"  Now  let  us  to  the  blind  world  there  beneath 


12  iii:r,i,. 

Descend  ;  "  the  bard  began  all  ])ale  of  look  : 
"I  go  the  first,  and  thou  slialt  follow  next." 

Then  I  liis  alterM  hue  ]»ercei\ing,  thus  :  15 

"  How  may  I  sj)eed,  it'  thou  yieldest  to  di'cad, 
Who  still  art  wont  to  comfort  mc  in  doubt  ?  " 

He  then  :  "  The  anguish  of  that  race  below 
With  pity  stains  my  cheek,  which  thou  f(n-  feai 
jMistakest.     Let  us  on.     Our  length  of  way  20 

Urges  to  haste."     Onward,  this  said,  he  mov'd  ; 
And  ent'ring  led  me  with  him  on  the  bounds 
Of  the  first  circle,  that  surrounds  th'  abyss. 
Here,  as  mine  ear  could  note,  no  plaint  was  heard 
Except  of  sighs,  that  made  th'  eternal  air  25 

Tremble,  not  caus'd  by  tortures,  but  from  grief 
Felt  by  those  multitudes,  many  and  vast. 
Of  men,  women,  and  infants.     Then  to  me 
The  gentle  guide  :  "  Inquir'st  thou  not  what  spirits 
Are  these,  which  thou  beholdest  ?     Ere  thou  pass  80 

Farther,  I  would  thou  know,  that  these  of  sin 
Were  blameless;  and  if  aught  they  merited, 
It  profits  not,  since  baptism  was  not  theirs, 
The  portal  to  thy  faith.     If  they  before 
The  Gospel  liv'd,  they  serv'd  not  God  aright ;  35 

And  among  such  am  I.     For  these  defects, 
And  for  no  other  evil,  we  are  lost ; 
Only  so  far  afflicted,  that  we  live 
Desiring  without  hope."     So  grief  assail'd. 
My  heart  at  hearing  this,  for  well  I  knew  40 

Suspended  in  that  Limbo  many  a  soul 
Of  mighty  Avorth.     "  O  tell  me,  sire  rever'd  ! 
Tell  me,  my  master  !  "     I  began  through  wish 
Of  full  assurance  in  that  holy  faith. 

Which  vanquishes  all  error  ;  "  say,  did  e'er  45 

Any,  or  through  his  own  or  other's  merit. 
Come  forth  from  thence,  who  afterward  was  blest?" 

Piercing  the  secret  purport  of  ray  speech, 
lie  answer'd  :  "  I  was  new  to  that  estate, 
When  I  beheld  a  puissant  one  arrive  50 

Amongst  us,  with  victorious  trophy  crown'd. 
Hl'  forth  the  f^hade  of  our  first  parent  drew. 


ITELL.  13 

Abt'l  his  C'liild,  and  Noah  righteous  man, 

Of  Moses  hiwgiver  for  faith  approv'd, 

Of  patriarch  Abraham,  and  David  king,  55 

Israel  with  liis  sire  and  with  liis  sons, 

Nor  witliout  Racliel  whom  so  hard  lie  won, 

And  others  many  more,  M'hom  he  to  bliss 

Exalted.     Before  these,  be  thou  assur'd, 

No  spirit  of  human  kind  was  ever  sav'd."  60 

We,  while  he  spake,  ceas'd  not  our  onward  road, 
Still  ])assing  through  the  wood  ;  for  so  I  name 
Tliose  spirits  thick  beset.     We  were  not  far 
On  this  side  from  the  summit,  when  I  kenn'd 
A  flame,  that  o'er  the  darken'd  hemisphere  65 

Prevailing  sliin'd.     Yet  we  a  little  S])ace 
Were  distant,  not  so  far  but  I  in  ])art 
Discover'd,  that  n  tribe  in  honour  high 
That  place  posscss'd.     "  O  thou,  who  every  art 
And  science  valu'st !  who  are  these,  that  boast  70 

Such  honour,  separate  from  all  the  rest  ?  " 

He  answer'd  :  "  The  renown  of  their  great  nanxes 
That  echoes  tlirough  your  world  above,  acquires 
Favour  in  heaven,  which  holds  them  thus  advanc'd." 
Meantime  a  voice  I  heard  :  "  Honour  the  bard  75 

Sublime  !  his  shade  returns  that  left  us  late !  " 
No  sooner  ceas'd  the  sound,  than  I  beheld 
Four  mighty  spirits  tOAvard  us  bend  their  steps. 
Of  semblance  neither  sorrowful  nor  glad. 

When  thus  my  master  kind  began  :  "  Mark  him,        80 
Who  in  his  right  hand  bears  that  falchion  keen, 
The  other  three  preceding,  as  their  lord. 
This  is  that  Homer,  of  all  bards  supreme  : 
Fhiccus  the  next  in  satire's  vein  excelling; 
The  tliird  is  Naso  ;  Lucan  is  the  last.  85 

Because  they  all  that  appellation  own, 
With  which  the  voice  singly  accosted  me, 
Honouring  they  greet  me  thus,  and  well  they  judge." 

So  I  belield  united  the  bright  school 
Of  him  the  monarch  of  sublimest  song,  90 

That  o'er  the  others  like  an  eagle  soars. 

When  they  together  short  discourse  had  held, 


14  HELL. 

They  turn'd  to  me,  witli  Siilulation  kind 

Beck'ning  me  ;  at  tlie  Avliieh  my  master  smil'd  : 

Nor  was  this  all ;  but  greater  honour  still  95 

They  gave  me,  for  they  made  me  of  their  tribe ; 

And  I  was  sixth  amid  so  learn'd  a  band. 

Far  as  the  lummous  beacon  on  we  pass'd 
Speaking  of  matters,  then  befitting  well 
To  speak,  now  fitter  left  untold.     At  foot  100 

Of  a  magnificent  castle  we  arriv'd, 
Seven  times  with  lofty  walls  begirt,  and  round 
Defended  by  a  pleasant  stream.     O'er  this 
As  o'er  dry  land  we  pass'd.     Next  through  seven  gates 
I  with  those  sages  enter'd,  and  we  came  105 

Into  a  mead  with  lively  verdure  fresh. 

There  dwelt  a  race,  who  slow  their  eyes  around 
Majestically  mov'd,  and  in  their  port 
Bore  eminent  authority  ;  they  spake 
Seldom,  but  all  their  words  were  tuneful  sweet.  110 

We  to  one  side  retir'd,  into  a  place 
Open  and  bright  and  lofty,  Avhence  each  one 
Stood  manifest  to  view.     Incontinent 
There  on  the  green  enamel  of  the  plain 
Were  shown  me  the  great  spirits,  by  whose  sight         115 
I  am  exalted  in  my  own  esteem. 

Electra  tliere  I  saw  accompanied 
By  many,  among  whom  Hector  I  knew, 
Anchises'  pious  son,  and  with  hawk's  eye 
Caesar  all  arm'd,  and  by  Camilla  there  120 

Penthesilea.     On  the  other  side 
Old  King  Latinus,  seated  by  his  child 
Lavinia,  and  that  Brutus  I  beheld. 
Who  Tarquin  chas'd,  Lucretia,  Cato's  wife 
Marcia,  with  Julia  and  Cornelia  there;  125 

And  sole  ai)art  retir'd,  the  Soldan  fierce. 

Then  when  a  little  more  I  rais'd  my  brow, 
I  spied  the  master  of  tlie  sapient  throng, 
Seated  amid  the  philosophic  train. 

Him  all  admire,  all  pay  him  rev'rence  due.  130 

There  Socrates  and  Plato  both  I  mark'd, 
Nearest  to  him  in  rank ;  Democritus, 


HELL,  15 

Wlio  sets  the  world  at  chance,  Diogenes, 

With  Heraclitus,  and  Empedocles, 

And  Anaxa^-oras,  and  Thales  sage,  135 

Zeno,  and  Dioscorides  Avell  read 

In  natnre's  secret  lore.     Orj)heus  I  mark'd 

And  Linus,  Tully  and  moral  Seneca, 

Euclid  and  Ptolemy,  Hippocrates, 

Galcnus,  Avicen,  and  him  who  made  140 

That  commentary  vast,  Averroes. 

Of  all  to  speak  at  full  were  vain  attempt ; 
For  my  wide  theme  so  urges,  tliat  ofttimes 
My  words  fall  short  of  what  bechanc'd.     In  two 
The  six  associates  part.     Another  way  145 

My  sage  guide  leads  me,  from  that  air  serene, 
Into  a  climate  ever  vex'd  with  storms : 
And  to  a  part  I  come  Avhere  no  light  shines. 


CANTO  V. 

From  the  first  circle  I  descended  thus 

Down  to  the  second,  which  a  lesser  space 

Embracing,  so  much  more  of  grief  contains 

Provoking  bitter  moans.     There  Minos  stands 

Grinning  with  ghastly  feature  :  he,  of  all  5 

Who  enter,  strict  examining  the  crimes, 

Gives  sentence,  and  dismisses  them  beneath. 

According  as  he  foldeth  him  around  : 

For  when  before  him  comes  th'  ill-fated  soul. 

It  all  confesses  ;  and  that  judge  severe  10 

Of  sins,  considering  what  place  in  hell 

Siiits  the  transgression,  with  his  tail  so  oft 

Himself  encircles,  as  degrees  beneath 

He  dooms  it  t(i>.  descend.     Before  him  stand 

Alway  a  num'rous  throng;  and  in  his  turn  15 

Each  one  to  judgment  passing,  speaks,  and.  hears 

His  fate,  thence  downward  to  his  dwelling  hurl'd. 

"  O  thou  !  who  to  this  residence  of  woe 
Approachest  ?  "  when  he  saw  me  coming,  cried 
Minos,  relinquishing  his  dread  employ,  20 


16  II1CI.T>. 

"  Look  liow  thou  outer  here  ;  beware  in  wlioin 

'J^hou  place  tliy  trust ;  let  not  the  entrance  broad 

Deceive  thee  to  thy  harm."     To  him  my  g-tiide  : 

"•  Wherefore  exelaimest?     Iliiulor  not  his  way 

IJy  destiny  ajijiointed  ;  so 'tis  will'd  25 

Where  will  and  power  are  one.     Ask  thou  no  more." 

Now  'giu  the  rueful  wailings  to  be  heard. 
Now  am  I  come  Avhere  many  a  plaining  voice 
Smites  on  mine  ear.     Into  a  place  I  came 
Where  light  w^as  silent  all.  Bellowing  there  groan'd      30 
A  noise  as  of  a  sea  in  tempest  torn 
By  warring  winds.     The  stormy  blast  of  hell 
With  restless  fury  drives  the  spirits  on 
^Vhirl'd  round  and  dash'd  amain  with  sore  annoy. 
When  they  arrive  before  the  ruinous  sweep,  35 

There  shrieks  are  heard,  there  lamentations,  moans. 
And  blasphemies  'gainst  the  good  Power  in  heaven. 

I  understood  that  to  this  torment  sad 
The  carnal  sinners  are  condcmn'd,  in  whoni 
Reason  by  lust  is  sway'd.     As  in  large  troops  40 

And  multitudinous,  when  winter  reigns, 
The  starlings  on  their  wings  are  borne  abroad  ; 
So  bears  the  tyrannous  gust  those  evil  souls. 
On  this  side  and  on  that,  above,  below. 
It  drives  them  :  hope  of  rest  to  solace  them  45 

Is  none,  nor  e'en  of  milder  pang.     As  cranes, 
'Chanting  their  dol'rous  notes,  traverse  the  sky, 
Stretch'd  out  in  long  array  :  so  I  beheld 
Spirits,  who  came  loud  wailing,  hurried  on 
By  their  dire  doom.     Then  I:  "Instructor!  who  50 

Are  these,  by  the  black  air  so  scourg'd  ?  " — "  The  first 
'Mong  those,  of  whom  thou  question'st,"  he  replied, 
"  O'er  many  tongues  was  emj)ress.     She  in  vice 
Of  luxury  was  so  shameless,  that  she  matte 
Liking  be  lawful  by  ])romu]g''d  decree,  55 

To  clear  the  blame  slie  had  herself  incurr'd. 
This  is  Semiramis,  of  whom  'tis  writ. 
That  she  succeeded  Ninus  her  espous'd ; 
And  held  the  land,  which  now  the  Soldan  rules. 
The  next  in  amoi'ous  furv  slew  herself,  60 


HELL.  17 

And  to  SiclK'us'  nshos  broke  her  faith: 
'I'heii  follows  Cleopatra,  lustful  queen." 

There  markVl  I  Helen,  for  whose  sake  so  long 
The  time  was  fraught  with  evil ;  there  the  great 
Achilles,  who  with  love  fought  to  the  end.  05 

Paris  I  saw,  and  Tristan  ;  and  beside 
A  thousand  niore  he  show'd  me,  and  by  name 
Pointed  them  ont,  whom  love  bereav'd  of  life. 

When  I  had  heard  my  sage  instructor  name 
Those  dames  and  knights  of  antique  days,  o'erpower'd  70 
By  i)ity,  well-nigh  in  amaze  my  mind 
Was  lost ;  and  I  began  :  "Bard!  willingly 
I  would  address  those  two  together  coming. 
Which  seem  so  light  before  the  wind."     He  thus : 
"  Note  thou,  Avhen  nearer  they  to  us  ap]»roach.  75 

Then  by  that  love  which  carries  them  along. 
Entreat ;  and  they  will  come."     Soon  as  the  Avind 
Sway'd  them  toward  us,  I  thus  fram'd  my  speech  : 
"  O  wearied  spii-its  !  come,  and  hold  discourse 
With  us,  if  by  none  else  restrain'd."     As  doves  80 

By  fond  desire  invited,  on  wide  wings 
And  firm,  to  their  sweet  nest  returning  home. 
Cleave  the  air,  wafted  by  their  will  along ; 
Thus  issu'd  from  that  troop,  where  Dido  ranks, 
They  through  the  ill  air  speeding;  with  such  force        85 
My  cry  jjrevail'd  by  strong  affection  urg'd. 

"  O  gracious  creature  and  benign  !  who  go'st 
Visiting,  through  this  element  obscure. 
Us,  who  the  world  with  bloody  stain  imbru'd  ; 
If  for  a  friend  the  King  of  all  we  own'd,  90 

Our  pray'r  to  him  should  for  thy  peace  arise, 
Since  thou  hast  pity  on  our  evil  plight. 
Of  whatsoe'er  to  hear  or  to  discourse 
It  pleases  thee,  that  Avill  we  hear,  of  that 
Freely  with  thee  discourse,  while  e'er  the  wind,  35 

As  now,  is  mute.     The  land,  that  gave  me  birth, 
Is  situate  on  the  coast,  where  Po  descends 
To  rest  in  ocean  with  his  sequent  streams. 

"Love,  that  in  gentle  heart  is  quickly  learnt, 
Entangled  him  by  that  fair  form,  from  me  100 

2 


18  IlKLL. 

Ta'en  in  siicli  ci-uel  sort,  as  gi'ievcs  me  slill: 

Love,  tliat  dciiial  takes  from  none  belov'd, 

Cauglit  me  with  jdeasiiig  Jiini  so  passing  well, 

Tliat,  as  tliou  scc'st,  he  yet  deserts  me  not. 

Love  brought  us  to  one  death  :  Caina  Avaits  105 

Tlie  soul,  Avho  sj)ilt  our  life."     Such  were  their  words  ; 

At  hearing  which  downward  I  bent  my  looks. 

And  held  them  there  so  long,  that  the  bard  cried  : 

"  What  art  thou  pond'j-ingV  "  I  in  answer  thus  : 

"Alas!  by  what  sweet  thoughts,  what  fond  desire       110 

Must  they  at  length  to  that  ill  i)ass  have  reach'd!" 

Then  turning,  I  to  them  my  speech  address'd. 
And  thus  began  :     "  Francesca  !  your  sad  fate 
Evejr  to  tears  my  grief  and  |)ity  moves. 
But  tell  me  ;  in  the  time  of  your  sweet  sighs,  115 

By  what,  and  how  love  granted,  that  ye  knew 
Your  yet  uncertain  wishes?"     She  rejdied: 
"No  greater  grief  than  to  remember  days 
Of  joy,  when  mis'ry  is  at  hand  !     That  kens 
Thy  learn'd  instructor.     Yet  so  eagerly  120 

If  thou  art  bent  to  know  the  primal  root. 
From  whence  our  love  gat  being,  I  will  do. 
As  one.  Mho  weeps  and  tells  his  tale.     One  day 
For  our  delight  we  read  of  Lancelot, 
How  him  love  thrall'd.     Alone  we  Averc,  and  no  125 

Suspicion  near  us.     Ofttimes  by  that  reading 
Our  eyes  were  drawn  together,  and  the  hue 
Fled  from  our  alter'd  cheek.     But  at  one  point 
Alone  Ave  fell.     When  of  that  smile  Ave  read, 
The  Avished  smile,  rapturously  kiss'd  130 

By  one  so  deep  in  love,  then  he,  Avho  ne'er 
.  From  me  shall  separate,  at  once  my  lips 
All  trembling  kiss'd.     The  book  and  Avriter  both 
Were  love's  purveyors.     Li  its  leaves  that  day 
We  read  no  more."     While  thus  one  spirit  spake,        135 
The  other  Avail'd  so  sorely,  that  heart-struck 
I  through  compassion  fainting,  seem'd  not  far 
From  death,  and  like  a  corpse  fell  to  the  ground. 


HELL.  19 

CANTO  VI. 

My  sense  reviviiifj^,  tliat  erewhilc  li;ul  droopM 

Witli  pity  for  the  kindred  shades,  wlienee  grief 

Overcame  me  wholly,  straight  around  I  see 

New  torments,  new  tormented  souls,  which  way 

Soe'er  I  move,  or  turn,  or  bend  my  sight.  5 

In  the  third  circle  I  aii'ive,  of  sliow'rs 

Ceaseless,  accursed,  l^eavy,  and  cold,  unchang'd 

For  ever,  both  in  kind  and  in  degree. 

Large  hail,  discolour'd  water,  sleety  flaw 

Through  the  dun  midnight  air  stream'd  down  amain  :  10 

Stank  all  the  land  whereon  that  tempest  fell. 

Cerberus,  cruel  monster,  fierce  and  strange, 
Thi'ough  his  wide  threefold  throat  barks  as  a  dog 
Over  the  multitude  immers'd  beneath. 
His  eyes  glare  crinison,  black  his  unctuous  beard,  15 

His  belly  large,  and  claw'd  the  hands,  with  which 
He  tears  the  spirits,  flays  them,  and  their  limbs 
Piecemeal  disparts.     ITowling  there  spread,  as  curs, 
Under  the  rainy  deluge,  with  one  side 
The  other  screening,  oft  they  roll  them  round,  20 

A  wretched,  godless  crew.     When  that  great  worm 
Descried  us,  savage  Cerberus,  he  op'd 
His  jaws,  and  the  fangs  show'd  us;  not  a  limb 
Of  him  but  trembled.     Then  my  guide,  his  palms 
Expanding  on  the  ground,  thence  filled  with  earth         25 
Rais'd  them,  and  cast  it  in  his  ravenous  maw. 
E'en  as  a  dog,  that  yelling  bays  for  food 
His  keeper,  when  the  morsel  comes,  lets  fall 
His  fury,  bent  alone  with  eager  haste 
To  swallow  it ;  so  dropp'd  tlie  loathsome  cheeks  30 

Of  demon  Cerberus,  who  thund'ring  stuns 
The  spirits,  that  they  for  deafness  wish  in  vain. 

We,  o'er  the  shades  thrown  prostrate  by  the  brunt 
Of  the  heavy  tempest  passing,  set  our  feet 
Upon  their  emptiness,  that  substance  seem'd.  35 

They  all  along  the  earth  extended  lay 
Save  one,  that  sudden  rais'd  himself  to  sit, 
Soon  as  that  way  he  saw  us  pass.     "  O  thou  !  " 


20  IIKLL. 

IIo  cried,  "wlio  tlirougli  tlic  infernal  sliadcs  art  led, 

Own,  if  again  thou  know'st  ine.     Thou  wast  frani'd       40 

Or  ere  my  frame  was  broken."     I  replied  : 

"The  anguish  thou  endur'st  })erchance  so  takes 

Thy  form  from  my  remembrance,  that  it  seems 

As  if  I  saw  thee  never.     But  inform 

Me  who  thou  art,  that  in  a  place  so  sad  45 ' 

Art  set,  and  in  such  torment,  that  although 

Other  be  greater,  more  disgustful  none 

Can  be  imagin'd."     He  in  answer  thus  : 

"  Thy  city  heap'd  with  envy  to  the  brim, 

Ay  that  the  measure  overflows  its  bounds,  60 

Held  me  in  brighter  days.     Ye  citizens 

"Were  wont  to  name  me  Ciacco.     For  the  sin 

Of  glutt'ny,  damned  vice,  beneath  this  rain, 

E'en  as  thou  see'st,  I  Avith  fatigue  am  worn  ; 

Nor  I  sole  spirit  in  this  woe :  all  these  55 

Have  by  like  crime  incurr'd  like  })unisliment." 

No  more  he  said,  and  I  my  speech  resum'd : 
"  Ciacco  !  thy  dire  affliction  grieves  me  much. 
Even  to  tears.     But  tell  me,  if  thou  knoAv'st, 
What  shall  at  length  befall  the  citizens  60 

Of  the  divided  city;  whether  any  just  one 
Inhabit  there :  and  tell  me  of  the  cause. 
Whence  jarring  discord  hath  assail'd  it  thus  ?  " 

He  then  :  "  After  long  striving  they  Avill  come 
To  blood  ;  and  the  wild  party  from  the  woods  65 

Will  chase  the  other  with  much  injury  forth. 
Then  it  behoves,  that  this  must  fall,  within 
Three  solar  circles  ;  and  the  other  rise 
By  borrow'd  force  of  one,  who  under  shore 
Now  rests.     It  shall  a  long  space  hold  aloof  70 

Its  forehead,  keeping  under  heavy  Aveiglit 
The  other  oppress'd,  indignant  at  the  load, 
And  grieving  sore.     The  just  are  two  in  number, 
But  they  neglected.     Av'rice,  envy,  pride. 
Three  fatal,  sparks,  have  set  the  hearts  of  all  75 

On  fire."     Here  ceas'd  the  lamentable  sound ; 
And  I  continu'd  thus  :  "  Still  would  I  learn 
More  from  thee,  farther  parley  still  entreat. 


HELL.  iii 

Of  Ffivinata  fiiifl  Togghinio  say, 

Tliey  who  so  well  dcserv'd,  of  Giacopo,  80 

Arrigo,  Mosca,  and  tlio  rest,  wlio  bent 

Their  minds  on  Av^orkiiig  good.     Oh  !  tell  me  Avherc 

They  bide,  and  to  their  knowledge  let  me  come. 

For  I  am  press'd  with  keen  desire  to  hear, 

If  heaven's  sweet  cup  or  poisonous  drug  of  hell  85 

Be  to  their  lip  assign'd."     He  answer'd  straight : 

"  These  are  yet  blacker  spirits.     Various  crimes 

Have  sunk  them  deeper  in  the  dark  abyss. 

If  thou  so  far  descendest,  thou  mayst  see  tliem. 

But  to  the  pleasant  world  when  thou  return'st,  90 

Of  me  make  mention,  I  entreat  thee,  there. 

No  more  I  tell  thee,  answer  thee  no  more." 

This  said,  his  fixed  eyes  he  turn'd  askance, 
A  little  ey'd  me,  then  bent  down  his  head. 
And  'midst  his  blind  conipaiiions  with  it  fell.  95 

When  thus  my  guide  :  "No  more  his  bed  he  leaves, 
Ere  the  last  angel-trumpet  blow.     The  Power 
Adverse  to  these  shall  then  in  glory  come, 
Each  one  forthwith  to  his  sad  tomb  repair, 
Resume  his  fie^hly  vesture  and  his  form,  100 

And  liear  the  eternal  doom  re-echoing  rend 
The  vault."     So  pass'd  we  through  tliat  mixture  foul 
Of  spirits  and  rain,  with  tardy  steps;  meanwhile 
Touching,  though  slightly,  on  the  life  to  come. 
For  thus^I  quostion'd  :  "Shall  these  tortures.  Sir  !       105 
When  the  great  sentence  passes,  be  increas'd, 
Or  mitigated,  or  as  uow  severe?" 

lie  then  :  "  Consult  thy  knowledge  ;  that  decides 
That  as  each  thing  to  more  perfection  grows. 
It  feels  more  sensibly  both  good  and  i)ain.  110 

Though  ne'er  to  true  ])erfection  may  arrive 
TJiis  race  accurs'd,  yet  neai-er  tlien  than  now 
They  shall  appi'oach  it."     Coini)assing  that  path 
Circuitous  we  journeyed,  and  discourse 
JNlucli  more  than  I  i-elate  between  us  j)ass'd  :  115 

Till  at  the  ))oint,  whence  the  ste])S  led  below, 
Arriv'd,  there  iMutus,  the  great  foe,  we  found. 


i»?  HELL. 

CANTO  VIT. 

"  An  me  !  O  Satan  !  Satan  !  "  loud  exclaim'd 

Pliitus,  in  accent  hoarse  of  wild  alarm  : 

And  the  kind  sage,  Avliom  no  event  sur])ris'd, 

To  comfort  me  thus  spake  :  "Let  not  thy  fear 

Harm  thee,  for  power  in  him,  be  sure,  is  none  5 

To  hinder  down  this  rock  thy  safe  descent." 

Then  to  that  swoln  lip  turning,  "  Peace!  "  he  cried, 

"  Curs'd  wolf !  thy  fury  inward  on  thyself 

Prey,  and  consume  thee !     Through  the  dark  profound 

Not  without  cause  he  passes.     So  't  is  will'd  10 

On  high,  there  where  the  great  Archangel  }iour'd 

Heav'n's  vengeance  on  the  first  adulterer  proud." 

As  sails  full  spread  and  bellying  with  the  wind 
Drop  suddenly  collapsVl,  if  the  mast  split; 
So  to  the  ground  down  dropp'd  the  cruel  fiend.  15 

Thus  we,  descending  to  the  fourth  steep  ledge, 
Gain'd  on  the  dismal  shore,  that  all  the  woe 
Hems  in  of  all  the  universe.     Ah  me ! 
Almighty  Justice  !  in  what  store  thou  heap'st 
New  pains,  new  troubles,  as  I  here  beheld !  20 

Wherefore  doth  fault  of  ours  bring  us  to  this  ? 

E'en  as  a  billow,  on  Charybdis  rising. 
Against  encounter'd  billow  dashing  breaks  ; 
Such  is  the  dance  this  wretched  race  must  lead, 
Whom  more  than  elsewhere  numerous  here  I  found,     25 
From  one  side  and  the  other,  with  loud  voice, 
Both  roll'd  on  weights  by  main  force  of  their  breasts, 
Then  smote  togetlier,  and  each  one  forthwith 
Roll'd  them  back  A'oluble,  turning  again. 
Exclaiming  these,  "Why  boldest  thou  so  fast?"  30 

Those  answering,  "  And  why  castest  thou  away  ?  " 
So  still  repeating  their  despiteful  song, 
They  to  the  opposite  point  on  either  hand 
Travers'd  the  horrid  circle  :  then  arriv'd. 
Both  turn'd  them  round,  and  through  the  middle  space 
Conflicting  met  again.     At  sight  whereof  36 

I,  stung  with  grief,  thus  spake  :  "  O  say,  my  guide  ! 
What  race  is  this  ?     Were  these,  whose  heads  are  shorn, 


iiEr,T,.  23 

On  our  left  Imnd,  all  sep'rute  to  the  clmrch  ?  " 

He  str:iii,^lit  rejilied  :  "In  their  first  life  tlieso  all        40 
In  mind  were  so  distorted,  that  they  made, 
According  to  due  measure,  of  their  wealth, 
No  use.     This  clearly  from  their  words  collect, 
Which  they  howl  foi-th,  at  each  extremity 
Arriving  of  the  circle,  where  their  crime  45 

Contrary'  in  kind  disparts  them.     To  the  church 
Were  separate  those,  that  with  no  hairy  cowls 
Are  crown'd,  both  Popes  and  Cardinals,  o'er  whom 
Av'rice  dominion  absolute  maintains." 

I  then  :  "  'Mid  such  as  these  some  needs  must  be,      50 
Whom  I  shall  recognize,  that  with  the  blot 
Of  tliese  foul  sins  were  stain'd."     He  answering  thus : 
"  Vain  thought  conceiv'st  thou.     That  ignoble  life. 
Which  made  them  vile  befo)-e,  now  makes  them  dark, 
And  to  all  knowledge  indiscernible.  55 

For  ever  they  shall  meet  in  this  rude  shock : 
These  from  the  tomb  with  clenched  grasp  shall  rise. 
Those  with  close-shaven  locks.     That  ill  they  gave. 
And  ill  they  kept,  hath  of  the  beauteous  world 
Depriv'd,  and  set  them  at  this  strife,  which  needs  60 

No  labour'd  phrase  of  mine  to  set  if  off. 
Now  may'st  thou  see,  my  son  !  how  brief,  how  vain, 
The  goods  committed  into  fortune's  hands, 
For  which  the  human  race  keep  such  a  coil ! 
Not  all  the  gold,  that  is  beneath  the  moon,  65 

Or  ever  hath  been,  of  these  toil-worn  souls 
Might  purchase  rest  for  one."     I  thus  rcjoin'd : 
"  My  guide  !  of  thee  this  also  "\vould  I  learn  ; 
This  fortune,  that  thou  speak'st  of,  wdiat  it  is. 
Whose  talons  grasp  the  blessings  of  the  world?"  70 

He  thus  :  "  O  beings  blind!  what  ignorance 
Besets  you '?     Now  my  judgment  hear  and  mark. 
He,  whose  transcendent  wisdom  passes  all, 
The  hea^'ens  creating,  gave  them  ruling  powers 
To  guide  them  ;  so  that  each  part  shines  to  each,  75 

Their  light  in  equal  distribution  pour'd. 
By  siinilar  appointment  he  ordain'd 
Over  the  world's  briu'ht  ima<ji;es  to  rule 


•24  /IKLT,, 

SupcriDtondoiico  of  a  miidiiit^  linnd 

And  !j,'ejH'i'a!  miiiistor,  wliicli  at  due  time  80 

]\lay  flianye  tlic  ejiipty  vanlagcs  of  life 

From  race  to  race,  from  one  to  otlier's  blood, 

Beyond  prevention  of  man's  wisest  care: 

Wherefore  one  nation  I'ises  into  sway, 

Another  languishes,  e'en  as  her  will  85 

Decrees,  from  us  eonceal'd,  as  in  tlie  grass 

The  serpent  train.     Against  her  nought  avails 

Your  utmost  wisdom.     She  Avitli  foresight  plans. 

Judges,  and  carries  on  her  reign,  as  theirs 

The  othtr  poAvcrs  divine.     Her  changes  know  90 

Nore  intermission  :  by  necessity 

She  is  made  swift,  so  frequent  come  Avho  claim 

Succession  in  her  favours.     This  is  she. 

So  execrated  e'en  by  those,  whose  debt 

To  her  is  rather  praise  ;  they  wrongfully  95 

With  blame  requite  her,  and  with  evil  word  ; 

But  she  is  blessed,  and  for  that  recks  not : 

Amidst  the  other  primal  beings  glad 

Rolls  on  her  sphere,  and  in  her  bliss  exults. 

Now  on  our  way  pass  we,  to  heavier  woe  100 

Descending :  for  each  star  is  falling  now. 

That  mounted  at  our  entrance,  and  forbids 

Too  long  our  tarrying."     We  the  circle  cross'd 

To  the  next  steep,  arriving  at  a  well, 

That  boiling  poixrs  itself  down  to  a  foss  105 

Sluic'd  from  its  source.     Far  murkier  was  the  wave 

Than  sablest  grain  :  and  we  in  company 

Of  the'  inky  waters,  journeying  by  their  side, 

Enter'd,  though  l)y  a  different  track,  beneath. 

Into  a  lake,  the  Stygian  nam'd,  expands  110 

The  dismal  stream,  when  it  hath  reach'd  the  foot 

Of  the  grey  wither'd  cliffs.     Intent  I  stood 

To  gaze,  and  in  the  marish  sunk  descried 

A  miry  tribe,  all  naked,  and  with  looks 

Betok'ning  rage.     They  with  their  liands  alone  115 

Struck  not,  but  with  the  head,  the  breast,  the  feet. 

Cutting  each  other  ])iecemeal  Avith  their  fangs. 

The  good  instructor  si)ake  :  "  Now  seest  thou,  son  ! 


The  souls  of  tliosc,  wlioin  an^ev  overcaTiic. 

This  too  for  certain  know,  tlmt  underneath  120 

TJic  water  dwells  a  multitude,  whose  siti'hs 

Into  these  bubbles  make  the  surface  heave, 

As  thine  eye  tells  thee  wheresoe'er  it  turn. 

Fix'd  in  the  slime  they  say  :  '  Sad  once  were  we 

'In  the  sweet  air  made  gladsome  by  the  sun,  125 

'  Carrying-  a  foul  and  lazy  mist  within  : 

'  Now  in  these  mui'ky  settlings  are  we  sad.' 

Such  dolorous  strain  they  gurgle  in  their  throats. 

But  word  distinct  can  utter  none."     Our  route 

Thus  compass'd  we,  a  segment  widely  stretch'd  130 

Between  the  dry  embankment,  and  the  core 

Of  the  loath'd  pool,  turning  meanwhile  our  eyes 

Downward  on  those  who  gul|)'d  its  muddy  \e6s  ; 

Nor  stop})'d,  till  to  a  tower's  low  base  we  came. 


CANTO  VIII. 

My  theme  pursuing,  I  relate  that  ere 

AVe  reach'd  the  lofty  turret's  base,  our  eyes 

Its  height  ascended,  where  two  cressets  hung 

We  mark'd,  and  from  afar  another  light 

Return  the  signal,  so  remote,  that  scarce  5 

The  eye  could  catch  its  beam.     I  turning  round 

To  the  deep  source  of  knowledge,  thus  inquir'd : 

"  Say  v/hat  this  n:ieans  ?  and  what  that  other  light 

In  answer  set  ?  what  agency  doth  this  '?  " 

"  There  on  the  filthy  waters,"  he  replied,  10 

"  E'en  now  what  next  awaits  us  mayst  thou  see, 
If  the  marsh-gender'd  fog  conceal  it  not." 

Never  was  arrow  from  the  cord  dismiss'd, 
That  ran  its  way  so  nimbly  through  the  air, 
As  a  small  bark,  that  through  the  waves  I  spied  15 

Toward  us  coming,  under  the  sole  sway 
Of  one  that  ferried  it,  Avho  cried  aloud  : 
"Art  thou  arriv'd,  fell  sjiirit  ?  "— "  Phlegyas,  Phlegyas, 
This  time  tliou  criest  in  vain,"  my  lord  re])lied ; 
"  No  longer  shalt  thou  have  us,  but  while  o'er  20 


26  IIKLL. 

The  slimy  pool  we  pass."     As  one  wlio  lienrs 

Of  some  yreat  wroiiL;;  lie  liath  siistainM,  ■\vliereat 

Inly  lie  jtiiies;  so  ]*lil('y;yas  inly  pinM 

In  his  liercc  ire.     My  ujuide  descending  stepp'd 

Into  the  skiff,  and  bade  me  enter  next  25 

Close  at  his  side;  nor  till  my  entrance  seem'd 

The  vessel  freighted.     Soon  as  l)oth  emhai'k'd, 

Cutting  the  waves,  goes  on  the  ancient  jirow. 

More  deeply  than  with  others  it  is  wont. 

While  we  our  course  o'er  the'dead  channel  held.        30 
One  drcnch'd  in  mire  before  me  came,  and  said  ; 
"  Who  art  thou,  that  thou  comest  ere  thine  hour  ?  " 

I  answer'd :  "Though  I  come,  I  tarry  not ; 
But  Avho  art  thou,  that  art  become  so  foul  ?  " 

"One,  as  thou  seest,  who  mourn  :"  he  straight  rejilied. 

To  Avhich  I  thus  :  "  In  mourning  and  in  w^oe,  36 

Curs'd  spirit !  tarry  thou.     I  know  thee  well. 
E'en  thus  in  filth  disguis'd."     Then  stretch'd  he  forth 
Hands  to  the  bark  ;  Avhereof  my  teacher  sage 
Aware,  thrusting  him  back  :  "Away  !  down  there         40 
To  the'  other  dogs  ! "  then,  with  his  arms  my  neck 
Encircling,  kiss'd  my  cheek,  and  spake  :  "  O  soul 
Justly  disdainful !  blest  was  she  in  whom 
Thou  was  conceiv'd  !     He  in  the  world  was  one 
For  arrogance  noted  ;  to  his  memory  45 

No  virtue  lends  its  lustre ;  even  so 
Here  is  his  shadow  furious.     There  above 
How  many  now  hold  themselves  mighty  kings 
Who  here  like  swine  shall  wallow  in  the  mire, 
Leaving  behind  them  horrible  dispraise  !  "  50 

I  then  :  "  Master  !  him  fain  would  I  behold 
Whelm'd  in  these  dregs,  before  we  quit  the  lake." 

He  thus  :  "  Or  ever  to  thy  view  the  shore 
Be  offer'd,  satisfied  shall  be  that  wish, 
Which  well  deserves  completion."     Scarce  his  words     55 
Were  ended,  when  I  saw  the  miry  tribes 
Set  on  him  with  such  violence,  that  yet 
For  that  render  I  thanks  to  God  and  praise. 
"  To  Filippo  Argenti :  "  cried  they  all : 
And  on  himself  the  moody  Florentine  60 


iiKij,.  27 

TnriiM  liis  avenfjing  fmii^s.     Iliin  liove  Aye  left, 
Nor  speak  I  of  liiiu  nioiv.     But  on  mine  ear 
Sudden  a  sound  of  lamentation  smote, 
Whereat  mine  eye  unbarr'd  I  sent  abroad. 

And  thus  the  good  instructor  :  "  Now,  my  son  !  65 

Draws  near  the  city,  that  of  Dis  is  nam'd, 
With  its  grave  denizens,  a  mighty  throng." 

I  thus  :  "  The  minarets  already,  Sir  ! 
There  certes  in  the  valley  I  descry, 

Gleaming  vermilion,  as  if  they  from  fire  70 

Had  issu'd."     He  replied  :  "  Eternal  fire. 
That  inward  burns,  shows  them  Avith  ruddy  flame 
Illum'd;  as  in  this  nether  hell  thou  seest." 

We  came  within  the  fosses  deep,  that  moat 
This  region  comfortless.     The  walls  appear'd  75 

As  they  Avere  fram'd  of  iron.     We  had  made 
Wide  circuit,  ere  a  ])lace  Ave  rcach'd,  Avhcre  loud 
The  mariner  cried  vehement :  "  Go  forth ! 
The'  entrance  is  here  !  "     Upon  the  gates  I  spied 
More  than  a  tliousand,  Avho  of  old  from  heaven  80 

Were  hurl'd.     With  ireful  gestures,  "  Who  is  this," 
They  cried,  "  that  Avithout  death  first  felt,  goes  through 
The  regions  of  the  dead  '? "     My  sapient  guide 
Made  sign  that  he  for  secret  parley  wish'd ; 
Whereat  their  angry  scorn  abating,  thus  85 

They  spake  :  "  Come  thou  alone  ;  and  let  him  go 
Who  hath  so  hardily  enter'd  this  realm. 
Alone  return  he  by  his  Avitless  Avay ; 
If  Avell  he  know  it,  let  him  prove.     For  thee, 
Here  shalt  thou  tarry,  Avho  through  clime  so  dark  90 

Hast  been  his  escort,"     Now  bethink  thee,  reader ! 
What  cheer  Avas  mine  at  sound  of  those  curs'd  Avords. 
I  did  believe  I  never  should  return. 

"  O  my  loA^'d  guide  !  who  more  than  scA^en  times 
Security  hast  render'd  me,  and  draAvn  95 

From  peril  deep,  Avhereto  I  stood  expos'd, 
Desert  me  not,"  I  cried,  "  in  this  extreme. 
And  if  our  onward  going  be  denied. 
Together  trace  we  back  our  steps  Avith  speed." 

My  liege,  who  thither  had  conducted  me,  100 


28  HELL. 

Replied :  "  Fear  not :  for  of  our  passage  none 

Hath  ]wwer  to  disappoint  us,  by  such  high 

Authority  ])ennitted.     But  do  thou 

Expect  uie  here  ;  uieanwliile  thy  wearied  spirit 

Comfort,  and  feed  with  Icindly  hope,  assur'd  105 

I  will  not  leave  thee  in  this  lower  world." 

This  said,  departs  the  sire  benevolent, 
And  quits  nie.     Hesitating  I  remain 
At  war  'twixt  Avill  and  will  not  in  my  thoughts. 

I  could  not  hear  what  terms  he  offer'd  them,  110 

But  they  conferr'd  not  long,  for  all  at  once 
To  trial  fled  within.     Clos'd  were  the  gates 
By  those  our  adversaries  on  the  breast 
Of  my  liege  lord  :  excluded  he  return'd 
To  me  with  tardy  stejis.     Upon  the  ground  115 

His  eyes  were  bent,  and  from  his  brow  eras'd 
All  confidence,  while  thus  with  sighs  he  spake : 
"Who  hath  denied  me  these  abodes  of  woe?" 
Then  thus  to  me  :  "  That  I  am  anger'd,  think 
No  ground  of  terror  :  in  this  trial  I  120 

Shall  vanquish,  use  what  arts  they  may  within 
For  hindrance.     This  their  insolence,  not  new, 
Erewhile  at  gate  less  secret  they  display'd, 
Which  still  is  without  bolt ;  upon  its  arch 
Thou  saw'st  the  deadly  scroll :  and  even  now  125 

On  this  side  of  its  entrance,  down  the  steep, 
Passing  the  circles,  unescorted,  comes 
One  whose  strong  might  can  open  us  this  land." 


CANTO  IX. 

The  hue,  which  coward  dread  on  my  pale  cheeks 
Imprinted,  when  I  saw  my  guide  tui'n  back, 
Chas'd  that  from  his  which  newly  they  had  worn, 
And  inwardly  restraiu'd  it.     He,  as  one 
Who  listens,  stood  attentive:  for  his  eye 
Not  far  could  lead  him  through  the  sable  air, 
And  tlie  thick-gath'ring  cloud.     "  It  yet  behoves 
We  win  this  fight" — thus  he  began — "  if  not — 


HELL.  29 

Such  aid  to  us  is  offer'd. — Oh,  liow  long 

Me  seonis  it,  ere  the  promisM  liclp  arrive  !  "  10 

I  noted,  how  tlie  sequel  of  his  Avords 
Clok'd  their  bc2;inning;  for  the  last  he  spake 
Agreed  not  with  the  h'rst.     But  not  the  less 
]My  fear  was  at  his  saying;  sith  I  drew 
To  im])ort  worse  perchance,  than  that  he  held,  15 

His  mutilated  speech.     "  Doth  ever  any 
Into  this  rueful  concave's  extreme  depth 
Descend,  out  of  the  first  degree,  whose  pain 
Is  depri^-ation  merely  of  sweet  hope  ?  " 

Thus  I  inquiring.     "  Rarely,"  he  replied,  20 

"  It  chances,  that  among  us  any  makes 
This  journey,  which  I  wend.     Erewhile  't  is  true 
Once  came  I  here  beneath,  conjur'd  by  fell 
Erictho,  sorceress,  who  comj^.ell'd  the  shades 
Back  to  their  bodies.     No  long  space  my  flesh  25 

Was  naked  of  me,  when  within  these  walls 
She  made  me  enter,  to  draw  forth  a  spirit 
From  out  of  Judas'  circle.     Lowest  place 
Is  that  of  all,  obscurest,  and  remov'd 
P\artliest  from  heav'n's  all-circling  orb.     The  road         30 
Full  well  I  know  :  thou  therefore  rest  secure. 
That  lake,  the  noisome  stench  exhaling,  round 
The  city'  of  grief  encompasses,  which  now 
We  may  not  enter  without  rage."     Yet  more 
He  added  :  but  I  hold  it  not  in  mind,  35 

For  that  mine  eye  toward  the  lofty  tower 
Had  drawn  me  wholly,  to  its  burning  toj). 
Where  in  an  instant  I  beheld  uprisen 
At  once  three  hellish  furies  stain'd  with  blood : 
In  limb  and  motion  feminine  they  seem'd  ;  40 

Around  them  greenest  hydras  twisting  roll'd 
Their  volumes;  adders  and  cerastes  crept 
Instead  of  hair,  and  their  fierce  tem2)les  bound. 

He  knowing  well  the  miserable  hags 
Who  tejid  the  queen  of  endless  woe,  thus  spake  :  45 

"Mark  thou  each  dire  Erinnys.     To  the  left 
This  is  MegaM-a  ;  on  the  riglit  liand  she, 
Who  wails,  Alecto  :  and  Tisiphone 


30  HK1,L. 

r  th'  midst."     Tliis  said,  in  silciict.'  lie  rcinaiii'd 

Their  breast  tliey  eacli  one  elawing  tore  ;  tlieniselves  50 

STUOtc  ■svith  tlieir  ])alnis,  and  sucli  shrill  clamour  ruis'd, 

That  to  the  bard  I  clung,  suspicion-bound. 

"  Hasten  Medusa  :  so  to  adamant 

Him  shall  Ave  change ; "  all  looking  down  exclaim'd. 

"  E'en  ■\vhen  by  Theseus'  might  assail'd,  we  took  55 

No  ill  revenge."     "Turn  thyself  round,  and  keep 

Thy  count'nance  liid  ;  for  if  the  Gorgon  dire 

Be  shown,  and  thou  shouldst  view  it,  thy  return 

Upwards  would  be  for  ever  lost."     This  said, 

Himself  my  gentle  master  turn'd  me  round,  60 

Nor  trusted  he  my  hands,  but  with  his  own 

He  also  hid  me.     Ye  of  intellect 

Sound  and  entire,  mark  well  the  lore  conceal'd 

Under  close  texture  of  the  mystic  strain  ! 

And  now  there  came  o'er  the  jierturbed  waves  65 

Loud-crashing,  terrible,  a  sound  that  made 
Either  shore  tremble,  as  if  of  a  wind 
Impetuous,  from  conflicting  vapours  sprung, 
That  'gainst  some  forest  driving  all  its  might, 
Plucks  off  the  branches,  beats  them  down  and  hurls      70 
Afar ;  then  onward  passing  proudly  sweeps 
Its  whirlwind  rage,  while  beasts  and  shepherds  fly. 

Mine  eyes  he  loos'd,  and  spake  :  "And  now  direct 
Thy  visual  nerve  along  that  ancient  foam, 
Tliere,  thickest  where  the  smoke  ascends."     As  frogs    75 
Before  their  foe  the  serpent,  through  the  wave 
Ply  swiftly  all,  till  at  the  ground  each  one 
Lies  on  a  heap  ;  more  than  a  thousand  spirits 
Destroy'd,  so  saw  I  fleeing  before  one 
Who  pass'd  with  unwet  feet  the  Stygian  sound.  80 

He,  from  his  face  removing  the  gross  air, 
Oft  his  left  hand  forth  stretch'd,  and  secm'd  alone 
By  that  annoyance  wearied.     I  perceiv'd 
That  he  was  sent  from  heav'n,  and  to  my  guide 
Turn'd  me,  who  signal  made  that  I  should  stand  85 

Quiet,  and  bend  to  him.     Ah  me  !  how  full 
Of  noble  anger  seem'd  he !     To  the  gate 
He  came,  and  with  his  wand  touch'd  it,  whereat 


HELL.  31 

Open  Avitliout  impediment  it  flew. 

"  Outcasts  of  lieav'n  !  O  abject  race  and  scorn'd  !  "    90 
Beo'an  he  on  the  liorrid  grunsel  standino-, 
"Whence  doth  this  wikl  excess  of  insolence 
Lodge  in  }-ou  ?  wherefore  kick  you  'gainst  that  will 
Ne'er  frustrate  of  its  end,  and  -wliich  so  oft 
Hath  laid  on  you  enforcement  of  j^our  ])angs?  95 

AVhat  ])rofits  at  the  fays  to  but  the  horn  ? 
Your  Cerberus,  if  ye  remember,  hence 
Bears  still,  peel'd  of  their  hair,  his  tliroat  and  maw." 

This  said,  he  turn'd  back  o'er  the  filthy  way, 
And  syllable  to  us  spake  none,  but  wore  100 

The  semblance  of  a  man  by  other  care 
Beset,  and  keenly  press'd,  than  thought  of  him 
Who  in  his  presence  stands.     Then  we  our  steps 
Toward  tliat  teriitory  mov'd,  secure 

After  the  hallow'd  words.     We  unoppos'd  105 

There  enter'd  ;  and  my  mind  eager  to  learn 
What  state  a  fortress  like  to  that  might  hold, 
I  soon  as  enter'd  throw  mine  eye  around, 
And  see  on  every  part  wide-stretching  space 
Keplete  with  bitter  pain  and  torment  ill.  110 

As  where  Rhone  stagnates  on  the  plains  of  Aries, 
Or  as  at  Pola,  near  Quarnaro's  gulf. 
That  closes  Italy  and  laves  her  bounds, 
The  place  is  all  thick  spread  with  sepulchres  ; 
So  was  it  here,  save  what  in  horror  here  115 

Excell'd  :  for  'midst  the  graves  were  scattered  flames, 
Wherewith  intensely  all  throughout  they  burn'd. 
That  iron  for  no  craft  there  hotter  needs. 

Their  lids  all  hung  suspended,  and  beneath 
From  them  forth  issuM  lamentable  moans,  120 

Such  as  the  sad  and  tortur'd  well  might  raise. 

I  thus  :  "  Master  !  say  who  are  these,  interr'd 
Within  these  vaults,  of  whom  distinct  we  hear 
The  dolorous  sighs?"     He  answer  thus  return'd  : 
"  The  arch-heretics  are  here,  accomi^anied  12? 

By  every  sect  their  followers  ;  and  much  more, 
Than  thou  believest,  tonibs  are  fi-eighted :  like 
^Vith  like  is  buried  ;  and  the  monuments 


nr:r,L. 


Are  (lilTcrc'iil  in  (li'y;i'{'es  of  licit."     This  said, 

He  U)  tlu;  riglit  hand  tiiniing,  (Jii  we  )»assM  130 

Betwixt  the  alllicted  uud  the  rivm2)aits  high. 


CANTO  X. 

Now  by  a  secret  pathway  -vve  proceed, 

Between  the  Avails,  that.heni  the  region  round, 

And  the  tormented  souls  :  my  master  first, 

I  close  behind  his  steps.     "Virtue  su])reme  !" 

I  thus  began  ;  "  Avho  through  these  am])le  orbs  5 

In  circuit  lead'st  me,  even  as  thou  will'st, 

S]ieak  thou,  and  satisfy  my  wish.     May  those, 

Who  lie  Avithin  these  sepulchres,  be  seen  ? 

Already  all  the  lids  are  rais'd,  and  none 

O'er  them  keeps  watch."     He  thus  in  answer  s])ake       10 

"  They  shall  be  closed  all,  Avhat-time  they  hci-e 

From  Josaphat  return'd  shall  come,  and  bring 

Their  bodies,  which  above  they  now  have  left. 

The  cemetery  on  this  part  obtain 

With  Jlpicurus  all  his  followers,  15 

Who  Avith  the  body  make  the  spirit  die. 

Here  therefore  satisfaction  shall  be  soon 

Both  to  the  question  ask'd,  and  to  the  wish. 

Which  thou  conceal'st  in  silence."     I  replied  : 

*'  I  keep  not,  guide  belov'd  !  from  thee  my  heart  20 

Secreted,  but  to  shun  vain  length  of  AA^ords, 

A  lesson  erew^hile  taught  me  by  thyself." 

"  O  Tuscan  !  thou  Avho  through  the  city  of  fire 
Alive  art  jjassing,  so  discreet  of  speech  ! 
Here  please  thee  stav  awhile.     Thy  utterance  25 

Declares  the  place  ol  thy  nativity 
To  be  that  noble  land,  Avitli  Avhich  perchance 
I  too  severely  dealt."     Sudden  that  sound 
Forth  issu'd  from  a  vault,  Avhereat  in  fear 
I  somcAvhat  closer  to  my  leader's  side  30 

Ap})roaching,  he  thus  spake  :  "  What  dost  thou  V    Turn. 
Lo,  Farinata,  there !  Avho  hath  himself 
Ujtlifted:  from  his  girdle  upwards  all 


iJL.=^ 


iiKix.  33    \ 

Expos'd  beliokl  liiin."     On  liis  face  was  mine  ! 

Already  fix'd  ;  his  breast  and  forehead  there  35     ; 

Erecting,  seeni'd  as  in  liigli  scorn  he  held  | 

E'en  hell.     Between  the  sepulchres  to  liim  \ 

My  guide  thrust  me  with  fearless  hands  and  prompt,  1 

This  warning  added  :  "  See  thy  words  be  clear!  "  ; 

lie,  soon  as  there  I  stood  at  the  tomb's  foot,  40      ! 

Ey'd  me  a  space,  then  in  disdainful  mood  | 

Address'd  me:  "Say,  what  ancestors  were  thine?"  1 

I,  willing  to  obey  him,  straight  reveal'd  | 

The  whole,  nor  kept  back  aught:  whence  he,  his  brow  I 

Somewhat  uplifting,  cried  :  "Fiercely  Avere  they  45      5 

Adverse  to  me,  my  party,  and  the  blood  ; 

From  whence  I  sprang :  twice  therefore  I  abroad 
Scatter'd  them."    "  Though  driv'n  out,  yet  they  each  time      \ 
From  all  i)arts,"  answer'd  I,  "  return'd  ;  an  art  \ 

Which  yours  have  shown,  tliey  are  not  skill'd  to  learn."  '; 

Then,  peering  forth  from  the  unclosed  jaw,  51 

Rose  from  his  side  a  shade,  high  as  the  chin. 
Leaning,  methought,  upon  its  knees  uj^rais'tl. 
It  look'd  around,  as  eager  to  explore 

If  there  were  other  with  me  ;  but  perceiving  55 

That  fond  imagination  quench'd,  with  tears 
Thus  spake  :  "  If  thou  through  this  blind  }irison  go'st. 
Led  by  thy  lofty  genius  and  profound,  I 

Where  is  my  son?  and  wherefore  not  with  tliee?"  ? 

I  straight  rejilied  :  "Not  of  myself  I  come,  (50 

By  him,  who  there  expects  me,  through  this  clime 
Conducted,  whom  perchance  Guide  thy  son  \ 

Had  in  contempt."  Already  had.  liis  words 
And  mode  of  punishment  read  me  his  name, 
Whence  I  so  fully  answer'd.     He  at  once  65       ; 

Exclaim'd,  up  starting,  "  How  !  said'st  thou  he  had.^  ] 

No  longer  lives  he ?     Strikes  not  on  his  eye  I 

The  blessed  daylight?"     Then  of  some  delay  ^ 

1  made  ere  my  reply  aware,  dov/n  fell 
Supine,  not  after  forth  a])i)ear'd  he  more.  70 

Meanwhile  the  other,  great  of  soul,  near  whom 
1  yet  was  station'd,  chang'd  not  count'nance  stern, 
Nor  mov'd  the  neck,  nor  bent  his  ribbed  side. 


BA  HELL. 

"And  if,"  continuing  the  first  discourse, 

"  They  in  this  art,"  lie  cried,  "  small  skill  have  shoAvn,  75 

Tiiat  doth  torment  me  more  e'en  than  this  bed. 

But  not  yet  fifty  times  shall  he  relum'd 

Her  aspect,  who  reigns  here  Queen  of  this  realm, 

Ere  thou  shalt  know  the  full  weight  of  that  art. 

So  to  the  pleasant  world  mayst  thou  return,  80 

As  thou  shalt  tell  me,  why  in  all  their  laws, 

Against  my  kin  this  people  is  so  fell?" 

"  The  slaughtei-  and  great  havoc,"  I  replied, 
"  That  colour'd  Arbia's  flood  with  crimson  stain — 
To  these  impute,  that  in  our  hallow'd  dome  Sft 

Such  orisons  ascend."     Sighing  he  shook 
The  head,  then  thus  resum'd  :  "  In  that  affray 
I  stood  not  singly,  nor  without  just  cause 
Assuredly  should  with  the  rest  have  stirr'd ; 
But  singly  there  I  stood,  when  by  consent  90 

Of  all,  Florence  had  to  the  ground  been  raz'd, 
The  one  Avho  openly  forbad  the  deed." 

"  So  may  thy  lineage  find  at  last  repose," 
I  thus  adjur'd  him,  "  as  thou  solve  this  knot, 
Which  now  involves  my  mind.     If  right  I  hear,  95 

Ye  seem  to  view  beforehand,  that  which  time 
Leads  with  him,  of  the  present  uninforni'd." 

"  We  view,  as  one  who  hath  an  evil  sight," 
He  ansAver'd,  "  plainly,  objects  far  remote : 
So  much  of  his  large  spendour  yet  imparts  100 

The'  Almighty  Ruler ;  but  when  they  approach 
Or  actually  exist,  our  intellect 
Then  wholly  fails,  nor  of  your  human  state 
Except  what  others  bring  us  know  wa  aught. 
Hence  therefore  mayst  thou  understand,  that  all  105 

Our  knowledge  in  that  instant  shall  expire, 
When  on  futurity  the  portals  close." 

Then  conscious  of  my  fault,  and  by  remorse 
Smitten,  I  added  thus  :  "  Now  shalt  thou  say 
To  him  there  fallen,  that  his  offspring  still  110 

Is  to  the  living  join'd  ;  and  bid  him  know, 
That  if  from  answ^er  silent  I  abstain'd, 
'Twas  that  my  thought  was  occupied  intent 


HELL.  35 

Upon  that  error,  which  thy  hel{)  hatli  solv'd." 

But  now  niy  master  summoning  me  back  115 

I  heard,  and  witli  more  eager  haste  besought 
The  spirit  to  inform  nie,  who  with  him 
Partook  liis  lot.     He  answer  thus  return'd  : 
"  More  than  a  thousand  M'ith  me  here  are  laid. 
Within  is  Frederick,  second  of  that  name,  120 

And  the  Lord  Cardinal,  and  of  the  rest 
I  speak  not."     He,  this  said,  from  sight  withdrew. 
But  I  my  steps  towards  the  ancient  bard 
Keverting,  ruminated  on  the  words 

Betokening  rae  such  ill.     Onward  he  mov'd,  125 

And  thus  in  going  question'd  :  "  Whence  the'  amaze 
That  holds  thy  senses  wrapt?"  I  satisfied 
The'  inquiry,  and  the  sage  enjoin'd  me  straight : 
"  Let  thy  safe  memory  store  what  thou  hast  heard 
To  thee  importing  harm  ;  and  note  thou  this,"  130 

With  his  rais'd  finger  bidding  me  take  heed, 
"  When  thou  shalt  stand  before  her  gracious  beam, 
Whose  bright  eye  all  sur^-eys,  she  of  thy  life 
The  future  tenour  will  to  thee  unfold." 

Forthwith  he  to  the  left  hand  turn'd  his  feet :  135 

We  left  the  wall,  and  tow'rds  the  middle  space 
Went  by  a  path,  that  to  a  valley  strikes  ; 
Which  e'en  thus  high  exhal'd  its  noisome  steam. 


CANTO  XL 

Upon  the  utmost  verge  of  a  high  bank, 

By  craggy  rocks  environ'd  round,  we  came. 

Where  woes  beneath  more  cruel  yet  were  stow'd : 

And  here  to  shun  the  horrible  excess 

Of  fetid  exhalation,  npward  cast  5 

From  the  profound  abyss,  behind  the  lid 

Of  a  great  monument  we  stood  retir'd. 

Whereon  this  scroll  I  mark'd  :  "  I  have  in  charge 

Pope  Anastasius,  whom  Photinus  drew 

From  the  right  jiath." — Ere  our  descent  behoves  10 

We  make  delay,  that  somewhat  first  the  sense. 


36  Hicij,. 

To  tlie  dire  brcntli  accustom'd,  afterwai'd 
Regnvd  it  not."     My  master  thus  ;  to  whom 
Answering  I  spake:  "Some  eoniiiensation  find 
That  tlie  time  |)ast  not  wholly  lost."     lie  then  :  15 

"  Lo  !  how  my  thoughts  s'en  to  thy  wishes  tend  ! 
My  son  !  within  these  ]-o(!l<s,"  he  thus  began, 
"  Are  three  close  circles  in  gradation  plac'd, 
As  these  Avhich  now  thou  Ica^'st.     Each  one  is  full 
Of  sj)irits  accurs'd  ;  but  that  the  sight  alone  20 

Hereafter  may  suffice  thee,  listen  how 
And  for  Avhat  cause  in  durance  they  abide. 
"  Of  all  malicious  act  abhorr'd  in  lieaven, 
The  end  is  injury  ;  and  all  such  end 

Either  by  force  or  fraud  works  other's  woe  25 

But  fraud,  because  of  man  peculiar  evil, 
To  God  is  more  displeasing  ;  and  beneath 
The  fraudulent  are  therefore  doom'd  to'  endure 
Severer  pang.     The  violent  occupy 

All  the  first  circle  ;  and  because  to  force  30 

Three  persons  are  obnoxious,  in  three  rounds 
Hach  within  other  sep'rate  is  it  fram'd. 
To  God,  his  neighbour,  and  himself,  by  man 
Force  may  be  oifer'd  ;  to  himself  I  say 
And  his  possessions,  as  thou  soon  shaft  hear  35 

At  full.     Death,  violent  death,  and  painful  wounds 
Upon  liis  neighbour  he  inflicts  ;  and  wastes 
By  devastation,  ])illage,  and  the  flames, 
His  substance.     Slayers,  and  each  one  that  smites 
In  malice,  plund'rei's,  and  all  robbers,  hence  40 

The  torment  undei'go  of  the  first  round 
In  different  herds.     Man  can  do  violence 
To'  himself  and  his  own  blessings  :  and  for  this 
He  in  the  second  round  must  aye  deplore 
With  unavailing  penitence  his  crime,  45 

Whoe'er  deprives  himself  of  life  and  light, 
In  reckless  lavishment  his  talent  wastes. 
And  sori'ows  there  whei'c  he  sliou.'d  dwell  in  joy. 
To  God  may  force  be  offer'd,  in  the  heart 
Denying  and  blaspheming  his  high  power,  50 

And  nature  with  her  kindly  law  contemning. 


IIKLL.  37 

And  tlience  tlie  inmost  round  marks  witli  its  seal 
Sodoju  and  Caliors,  and  all  such  as  speak 
Contemptuously'  of  the  Godhead  in  their  hearts. 

"  Fraud,  that  in  every  conscience  leaves  a  sting,         55 
May  be  by  man  cm])loy'd  on  one,  whose  trust 
He  wins,  or  on  another  who  withholds 
Strict  confidence.     Seems  as  the  latter  way 
Broke  but  the  bond  of  love  which  Nature  makes. 
^^  hence  in  the  second  circle  have  their  nest  60 

Dissimulation,  witchcraft,  flatteries, 
Theft,  falsehood,  simony,  all  who  seduce 
To  lust,  or  set  their  honesty  at  jiawn, 
With  such  vile  scum  as  these.     The  other  Avay 
Forgets  both  Nature's  general  love,  and  that  65 

Wliich  thereto  added  afterwards  gives  birth 
To  special  faith.     Whence  in  the  lesser  circle, 
Point  of  the  universe,  dread  seat  of  Dis, 
The  traitor  is  eternally  consum'd." 

I  tlms  :  "Instructor,  clearly  thy  discourse  70 

Proceeds,  distinguishing  the  hideous  chasm 
And  its  inhabitants  with  skill  exact. 
But  tell  me  this  :  they  of  the  dull,  fat  pool, 
Whom  the  rain  beats,  or  whom  the  tempest  drives. 
Or  who  witli  tongues  so  fierce  conflicting  meet,  75 

Wherefore  within  the  city  fire-illum'd 
Are  not  tliese  punish'd,  if  God's  wrath  be  on  them? 
And  if  it  be  not,  wherefore  in  such  guise 
Are  they  condemned  '?"     He  answer  thus  return'd  : 
"  Wherefore  in  dotage  wanders  thus  tliy  mind,  80 

Not  so  aecustom'd  ?  or  what  other  thoughts 
Possess  it  ?     Dwell  not  in  thy  memory 
Tlie  words,  wherein  thy  ethic  ymge  describes 
Three  dispositions  adverse  to  Ileav'n's  will, 
Incont'nence,  malice,  and  mad  brutishness,  85 

And  how  incontinence  the  least  offends 
God,  and  least  guilt  incurs  ?     If  well  thou  note 
This  judgment,  and  remember  who  they  are, 
Without  these  walls  to  vain  repentance  doom'd, 
Thou  shalt  discern  wliy  tliey  apai-t  are  ))lac'd  90 

From  these  fell  spirits,  and  less  wi-er.kfid  pours 


38  HETX. 

Justice  divine  on  tliein  its  vengeance  down." 

"  O  Sun  !  wlio  lieiilcst  all  imjtei-fect  sight, 
Thou  so  content'st  me,  wluui  th(ju  solv'st  my  douht. 
That  ignorance  not  less  than  knowledge  charms.  95 

Yet  somewhat  turn  thee  back,"  I  in  t'liese  words 
Continu'd,  "  where  thou  saidst,  that  usury- 
Offends  celestial  Goodness  ;  and  this  knot 
Perplex'd  unravel."     He  thus  made  reply: 
"  Philosophy,  to  an  attentive  ear,  lOC 

Clearly  points  out,  not  in  one  part  alone, 
How  imitative  nature  takes  her  course 
From  the  celestial  mind  and  from  its  art : 
And  Avhere  her  laws  the  Stagyrite  unfolds. 
Not  many  leaves  scanned  o'er,  observing  well  105 

Thou  shalt  discover,  that  your  art  on  her 
Obsequious  follows,  as  the  learner  treads 
In  his  instructor's  step,  so  that  your  art 
Deserves  the  name  of  second  in  descent 
From  God.     These  two,  if  thou  recall  to  mind  110 

Creation's  holy  book,  from  the  beginning 
Were  the  riglit  source  of  life  and  excellence 
To  human  kind.     But  in  another  path 
The  usurer  walks  ;  and  Nature  in  herself 
And  in  her  follovv'er  thus  he  sets  at  nought,  115 

Placing  elsewhere  his  hope.     But  follow  now 
My  steps  on  forward  journey  bent ;  for  now 
The  Pisces  play  with  undulating  glance 
Along  the'  horizon,  and  the  Wain  lies  all 
O'er  the  north-west ;  and  onward  there  a  space  120 

Is  our  steep  passage  down  the  rocky  height." 


CANTO  XII. 

The  place  where  to  descend  the  precipice 
We  came,  was  rough  as  Alp,  and  on  its  verge 
Such  object  lay,  as  every  eye  would  shun. 

As  is  that  ruin,  which  Adice's  stream 
On  this  side  Trento  struck,  shoidd'ring  the  wave, 
'Or  looa'd  by  earthquake  or  for  lack  of  prop ; 


IIKT.T,.  39 

For  from  the  mountain's  summit,  wlicnco  it  mov'd 

To  the  low  level,  so  the  headlong  rock 

Is  shiver'd,  that  some  passage  it  might  give 

To  him  who  from  above  would  pass ;  e'en  such  10 

Into  the  chasm  was  that  descent :  and  there 

At  point  of  the  disparted  ridge  lay  stretch'd 

The  infamy  of  Crete,  detested  brood 

Of  the  feign'd  heifer  :  and  at  sight  of  us 

It  gnaw'd  itself,  as  one  with  rage  distract.  15 

To  him  my  guide  exclaim'd  :  "  Perchance  thou  deem'st 

The  King  of  Athens  here,  Avho,  in  the  world 

Above,  thy  death  contriv'd.     Monster  !  avaunt ! 

He  comes  not  tutor'd  by  thy  sister's  art. 

But  to  behold  your  torments  is  he  come."  20 

Like  to  a  bull,  that  with  impetuous  spring 
Darts,  at  the  moment  when  the  fatal  blow 
Hath  struck  him,  but  unable  to  proceed 
Plunges  on  either  side ;  so  saw  I  plunge 
The  Minotaur  ;  whereat  the  sage  exclaim'd  :  2.5 

"  Run  to  the  passage  !  while  he  storms,  't  is  well 
That  thou  descend."     Thus  down  our  road  we  took 
Through  those  dila]»idated  crags,  that  oft 
Mov'd  underneath  my  feet,  to  weight  like  theirs 
Unus'd.     I  pond'ring  went,  and  thus  he  spake  :  30 

"  Perhaps  thy  thoughts  are  of  this  ruin'd  steep, 
Guarded  by  the  brute  violence,  which  I 
Have  vanquish'd  now.     Know  then,  that  when  I  erst 
Hither  descended  to  the  nether  hell, 

This  rock  was  not  yet  fallen.     But  past  doubt  35 

(If  well  I  mark)  not  long  ere  He  arrived, 
Who  carried  off  from  Dis  the  mighty  spoil 
Of  the  highest  circle,  then  through  all  its  bounds 
Such  trembling  seiz'd  the  deep  concave  and  foul, 
I  thought  the  universe  was  thrill'd  with  love,  40 

Whereby,  there  are  who  deem,  the  world  hath  oft 
Been  into  chaos  turn'd :  and  in  that  point, 
Here,  and  elsewhere,  that  old  rock  toppled  down. 
But  fix  thine  eyes  beneath :  the  river  of  blood 
Ai>proaches,  hi  the  which  all  those  are  steep'd,  45 

Who  have  by  violence  injur'd."     O  blind  lust ! 


-t- 


40  IIKI.L, 


i 

\       O  foolisli  wr.'itli !  who  so  dost  goad  us  on 

I       In  the  brief  life,  and  in  tlie  eternal  then 

I       Thus  miserably  o'crwlielm  us.     I  beheld 

I       An  ample  fuss,  (hat  in  a  bow  was  bent,  50 

(       As  cireling  all  the  plain  ;  for  so  my  guide 

I       Had  told,     lietween  it  and  the  rampart's  base 
On  trail  ran  Centaurs,  with  keen  arrows  arm'd, 
As  to  the  ehase  they  on  the  earth  were  wont. 

At  seeing  us  descend  they  each  one  stood  ;  55 

And  issuing  from  the  troop,  three  sj)ed  with  bows 
And  missile  weapons  chosen  first ;  of  whom 
One  cried  from  far :  "  Say  to  what  pain  ye  come 
Condemn'd,  who  down  this  steep  have  journied  ?     Speak 
From  whence  ye  stand,  or  else  the  bow  I  draw."  6'J 

To  whom  my  guide  :  "  Our  answer  shall  be  made 
To  Chiron,  there,  when  nearer  him  we  come. 
Ill  was  thy  mind,  thus  ever  quick  and  rash." 

Then  me  he  touch'd,  and  spake  :  "  Nessus  is  tliis, 
Who  for  the  fair  Deianira  died,  65 

And  wrought  himself  revenge  for  his  own  fate. 
He  in  the  midst,  that  on  his  breast  looks  down. 
Is  the  great  Chiron  who  Achilles  nurs'd  ; 
That  other  Pholus,  prone  to  wrath."     Around 
The  foss  these  go  by  thousands,  aiming  shafts  70 

At  whatsoever  spirit  dares  emerge 
From  out  the  blood,  more  than  his  guilt  allows. 

We  to  those  beasts,  that  rapid  strode  along, 
Drew  near,  when  Chiron  took  an  arrow  forth. 
And  with  the  notch  push'd  back  his  shaggy  beard  75 

To  the  cheek-bone,  then  his  great  mouth  to  view 
Exposing,  to  his  fellows  thus  exclaini'd  : 
"  Are  ye  aware,  that  he  who  comes  behind 
Moves  what  he  touches?     The  feet  of  the  dead 
Are  not  so  wont."     My  trusty  guide,  who  now  80 

Stood  near  liis  breast,  where  the  two  natures  join, 
Thus  made  reply  :  "  He  is  indeed  alive, 
And  solitary  so  must  needs  by  me 
Be  sliown  the  gloomy  vale,  thereto  induc'd 
By  strict  necessity,  not  by  delight.  85 

She  left  her  joyful  harpings  in  the  sky, 


5  HELL.  41 

\ 

I        Who  this  iicw  office  to  my  care  consigii'd. 
I        lie  is  no  robber,  no  dark  spirit  I. 

But  by  that  virtue,  which  ein])o\vers  my  step 
!        To  treat  so  wikl  a  ])ath,  grant  us,  I  ])ray,  90 

I        One  of  thy  band,  whom  we  may  trust  secure, 
Wlio  to  the  ford  may  lead  us,  and  convey 
Across,  him  mounted  on  liis  back  ;  for  he 
Is  not  a  spirit  tliat  may  walk  the  air." 

Then  on  his  right  breast  turning,  Chiron  thus  95 

To  Nessus  spake  :  "Return,  and  be  their  guide. 
And  if  ye  chance  to  cross  anotlier  troop. 
Command  them  keep  aloof."     Otiward  we  mov'd, 
The  faithful  escort  by  our  side,  along 
The  border  of  the  crhnson-seething  flood,  100 

Wlience  from  tliose  steep'd  within  loud  shrieks  arose. 

Some  there  I  mark'd,  as  high  as  to  their  brow 
Immers'd,  of  whom  tlie  miglity  Centaur  thus : 
"  These  are  the  souls  of  tyrants,  who  were  given 
To  blood  and  rapine.     Here  they  wail  aloud  105 

Their  merciless  wrongs.     Here  Alexander  dwells, 
And  Dionysius  fell,  Avho  many  a  year 
'       Of  woe  wrought  for  fair  Sicily.     That  brow 
I       Whereon  the  hair  so  jetty  clust'ring  hangs, 
[       Is  Azzolino  ;  that  with  flaxen  locks  110 

Obizzo'  of  Este,  in  the  world  destroy'd 
By  his  foul  step-son."     To  the  bard  rever'd 
I  turned  me  round,  and  thus  he  spake;  "Let  him 
Be  to  thee  now  first  leader,  me  but  next 
To  him  in  rank."     Then  farther  on  a  space  115 

The  Centaur  ]»aus'd,  near  some,  who  at  the  tliroat 
Were  extant  from  the  wave  ;  and  showing  us 
A  s])irit  by  itself  apart  retir'd, 
Exclaim'd  :  "He  in  God's  bosom  smote  the  heart, 
AVhich  yet  is  honour'd  on  the  bank  of  Tliames."  120 

A  race  I  next  espied,  who  held  the  head. 
And  even  all  the  bust  above  the  stream. 
']\Jidst  these  I  many  a  face  remember'd  well. 
Tims  shallow  more  and  more  the  blood  became, 
So  that  at  last  it  but  imbru'd  the  feet ;  125 

And  there  our  ])assage  lay  athwart  the  foss. 


42  HELL. 

"  As  ever  on  tliis  side  the  boiling  wave 
Thou  seest  diniinisliing,"  the  Centaur  said, 
"  So  on  the  other,  be  thou  well  assur'd, 
It  lower  still  and  lower  sinks  its  bed,  130 

Till  in  that  part  it  reuniting  join, 
Where  't  is  the  lot  of  tyranny  to  mourn. 
There  ITeav'n's  stern  justice  lays  chastising  hand 
On  Attila,  who  was  the  scourge  of  earth, 
On  Sextus,  and  on  Pyrrhus,  and  extracts  135 

Tears  ever  by  the  seething  flood  unlock'd 
From  the  Rinieri,  of  Corneto  this, 
Pazzo  the  other  nam'd,  who  fill'd  the  ways 
With  violence  and  war."     This  said,  he  turn'd, 
And  quitting  us,  alone  repass'd  the  ford.  140 


CANTO  XIII 

Eee  Nessus  yet  had  reach'd  the  other  bank, 

We  enter'd  on  a  forest,  where  no  track 

Of  steps  had  worn  a  way.     Not  verdant  there 

The  foliage,  but  of  dusky  hue  ;  not  light 

The  boughs  and  tapering,  but  with  knares  deform'd         5 

And  matted  thick:  fruits  there  were  none,  but  thorns 

Instead,  with  venom  fill'd.     Less  sharp  than  these. 

Less  intricate  the  brakes,  wherein  abide 

Those  animals,  that  hate  the  cultur'd  fields. 

Betwixt  Corneto  and  Cecina's  stream.  10 

Here  the  brute  Hai'pies  make  their  nest,  the  same 
Who  from  the  Strophades  the  Trojan  band 
Drove  with  dire  boding  of  their  future  woe. 
Broad  are  their  pennons,  of  the  human  form 
Their  neck  and  count'nance,  arm'd  with  talons  keen       15 
The  feet,  and  the  huge  belly  fledge  with  wings. 
These  sit  and  wail  on  the  drear  mystic  wood. 

The  kind  instructor  in  these  words  began  : 
"  Ere  farther  thou  proceed,  know  thou  art  now 
I'  til'  second  round,  and  shalt  be,  till  thou  come  20 

Upon  the  horrid  sand  :  look  therefore  well 
Around  thee,  and  such  things  thou  shalt  behold, 


As  would  my  speech  discredit."     On  all  sides 

I  heard  sad  plainings  breathe,  and  none  could  see 

From  whom  they  might  have  issu'd.     In  amaze  25 

Fast  bound  I  stood.     He,  as  it  seem'd,  believ'd, 

That  I  had  thought  so  many  voices  came 

From  some  amid  those  thickets  close  conceal'd, 

And  thus  his  s])eech  resum'd  :  "  If  thou  lop  off 

A  single  twig  from  one  of  those  ill  plants,  30 

The  thought  thou  hast  conceiv'd  shall  vanish  quite." 

Tliereat  a  little  stretching  forth  my  hand, 
From  a  great  wilding  gather'd  I  a  branch, 
And  straight  the  trunk  exclaim'd :  "  Why  j^luck'st  thou 

me?" 
Then  as  the  dark  blood  trickled  down  its  side,  35 

These  words  it  added  :  "Wherefore  tear'st  me  thus? 
Is  there  no  touch  of  mercy  in  thy  breast  ? 
Men  once  were  we,  that  now  are  rooted  here. 
Thy  hand  might  well  have  spar'd  us,  had  we  been 
The  souls  of  serpents."     As  a  brand  yet  green,  40 

That  burning  at  one  end  from  the'  other  sends 
A  groaning  soiind,  and  hisses  with  the  wind 
That  forces  out  its  way,  so  burst  at  once. 
Forth  from  the  broken  splinter  words  and  blood. 

I,  letting  fall  the  bough,  remain'd  as  one  45 

Assail'd  hy  terror,  and  the  sage  replied  : 
"  If  he,  O  injur'd  spirit!  could  have  believ'd 
What  he  hath  seen  but  in  my  verse  describ'd, 
He  never  against  thee  had  stretch'd  his  hand. 
But  I,  because  the  thing  surpass'd  belief,  50 

Prompted  him  to  this  deed,  which  even  now 
Myself  I  rue.     But  tell  me,  who  thou  wast ; 
That,  for  this  wrong  to  do  thee  some  amends, 
In  the'  ujiper  world  (for  thither  to  return 
Is  granted  him)  thy  fame  he  may  revive."  55 

"  That  pleasant  word  of  thine,"  the  trunk  replied 
"  Hath  so  inveigled  me,  that  I  from  speech 
Cannot  refrain,  wherein  if  I  indulge 
A  little  longer,  in  the  snare  detain'd. 

Count  it  not  grievous.     I  it  was,  who  held  60 

Both  keys  to  Frederick's  heart,  and  turn'd  the  wards, 


44  IIKT.T,. 

Opening  and  sliuUiiiir,  witli  :i  skill  so  swcot, 

Tluvt  besides  me,  into  liis  inmost  In-enst 

Searee  any  other  could  admittance  find. 

Tlie  faith  I  bore  to  my  hitfh  charge  was  siicli,  G5 

It  cost  me  the  life-blood  that  wai-m'd  my  veins. 

Tlie  harlot,  Avlio  ne'er  turn'd  lier  gloating  eyes 

From  Ciesar's  liousehold,  common  vice  and  j)est 

Of  courts,  'gainst  mc  intlam'd  the  minds  of  all  ; 

And  to  Augustus  they  so  s])read  the  flame,  70 

Tliat  my  glad  lionours  chang'd  to  bitter  woes. 

My  soul,  disdainful  and  disgusted,  sought 

Refuge  in  death  from  scorn,  and  I  became, 

Just  as  I  was,  unjust  toward  myself. 

By  the  new  roots,  which  fix  tliis  stem,  I  swear,  75 

That  never  faith  I  broke  to  my  liege  lord, 

"Who  merited  such  honour  ;  and  of  you, 

If  any  to  the  world  indeed  return. 

Clear  he  from  wrong  my  memory,  that  lies 

Yet  prostrate  under  envy's  cruel  blow."  80 

First  somewhat  pausing,  till  the  mournful  words 
Were  ended,  then  to  me  the  bard  began  : 
"Lose  not  the  time;  but  sjjcak  and  of  him  ask, 
If  more  tliou  wish  to  learn."     Whence  I  replied  : 
"  Question  thou  him  again  of  Avhatsoe'er  85 

Will,  as  thou  think'st,  content  me  ;  for  no  power 
Have  I  to  ask,  such  j^ity'  is  at  my  heart." 

He  thus  resum'd ;  "So  may  he  do  for  thee 
Freely  what  thou  entreatest,  as  thou  yet 
Be  pleas'd,  imprison'd  s])irit !  to  declare,  90 

How  in  these  gnarled  joints  the  soul  is  tied ; 
And  whether  any  ever  from  sucli  frame 
Be  loosen'd,  if  thou  canst,  that  also  tell." 

Thereat  the  trunk  breatli'd  hard,  and  the  wind  soon 
Chang'd  into  sounds  articulate  like  these  ;  95 

Briefly  ye  shall  be  answer'd.     When  departs 
The  fierce  soul  from  the  body,  by  itself 
Thence  torn  asunder,  to  the  seventh  gulf 
By  Minos  doom'd,  into  the  wood  it  falls. 
No  place  assign'd,  but  wheresoever  chance  100 

Hurls  it,  there  s]>routing,  as  a  gi-ain  of  spelt. 


HKLL.  45 

Xt  rises  to  a  sapling,  grov/ini;'  thciico 

A  savage  plant.     The  Harpies,  on  its  leaves 

Then  feeding,  cause  both  pain  and  for  the  pain 

A  vent  to  grief.     We,  as  the  rest,  shall  come  105 

For  our  own  sj^oils,  yet  not  so  that  with  them 

We  may  again  he  clad;  for  what  a  man 

Takes  from  himself  it  is  not  just  he  have. 

Hei-e  we  perforce  shall  drag  them  ;  and  throughout 

The  dismal  glade  our  bodies  shall  be  hung,  110 

Each  on  the  wild  thorn  of  his  wretched  shade." 

Attentive  yet  to  listen  to  the  trunk 
We  stood,  expecting  farther  speech,  when  us 
A  noise  surpris'd,  as  when  a  man  perceives  | 

The  Avild  boar  and  the  hunt  approach  his  place  115     ? 

Of  station'd  watch,  who  of  the  beasts  and  boughs 
Loud  rustling  round  him  hears.     And  lo  !  there  came 
Two  naked,  torn  with  briei's,  in  headlong  tiiglit, 
Tliat  they  before  them  broke  each  fan  o'  th'  wood.  \ 

"Haste  now,"    the  foremost  cried,    "now    haste    thee,     1 
death!"  120     > 

Tlie'  other,  as  seem'd,  impatient  of  delay 
Exclaiming,  "  Lano  !  not  so  bent  for  speed 
Thy  sinews,  in  the  lists  of  To])po's  field."  ' 

And  then,  for  that  perchance  no  longer  bi'cath  \ 

Suffic'd  him,  of  himself  and  of  abui-h  125 

One  group  he  made.     Behind  them  was  the  Avood 
Full  of  black  female  mastiffs,  gaunt  and  lleet,  ■ 

As  greyhounds  that  have  newly  slipp'd  the  leash. 
On  him,  who  squatted  down,  they  stuck  their  fangs,  = 

And  having  rent  him  piecemeal  bore  away  130      t 

The  tortur'd  limbs.     My  guide  then  seiz'd  my  hand,  \ 

And  led  me  to  the  thicket,  which  in  vain  \ 

Mourn'd  through  its  bleeding  wounds  :  "  O  Giacomo 
Of  Sant'  Andrea  !  what  avails  it  thee," 

It  cried,  "  that  of  me  thou  hast  made  thy  screen  ?         135      \ 
For  thy  ill  life  what  blame  on  me  recoils  ?  "  [ 

When  o'er  it  he  had  paus'd,  my  master  spake:  1 

"  Say  who  wast  thou,  that  at  so  many  points  | 

Breath'st  out  with  blood  thy  lamentable  sj)eech  ?" 

ITeanswer'd:  "Oh,  ye  s])irits  I  arriv'd  in  time  140 


46  HELL. 

To  spy  the  shamofiil  havoc,  that  from  me 

My  leaves  hath  sevcr'd  thus,  gather  them  up, 

And  at  the  foot  of  their  sad  parent-tree 

Carefully  lay  them.     In  that  city'  1  dwelt. 

Who  for  the  Baptist  her  first  patron  chang'd,  145 

Whence  he  for  this  shall  cease  not  with  his  art 

To  work  her  woe  :  and  if  there  still  remain'd  not 

On  Arno's  passage  some  faint  glimpse  of  him, 

Those  citizens,  who  rear'd  once  more  her  walls 

Ul)on  the  ashes  left  by  Attila,  150 

Had  labour'd  without  profit  of  their  toil. 

I  sluMg  the  fatal  noose  from  my  own  roof." 

CANTO  XIV. 

Soon  as  the  charity  of  native  land 

Wrought  in  my  bosom,  I  the  scatter'd  leaves 

Collected,  and  to  him  restor'd,  who  now 

Was  hoarse  with  utt'rance.     To  the  limit  thence 

We  came,  which  from  the  third  the  second  round  5 

Divides,  and  where  of  justice  is  display'd 

Contrivance  horrible.     Things  then  first  seen 

Clearlier  to  manifest,  I  tell  how  next 

A  plain  we  reach'd,  that  from  its  sterile  bed 

Each  plant  repell'd.  The  mournful  wood  waves  round  10 

Its  garland  on  all  sides,  as  round  the  wood 

Spreads  the  sad  foss.     There,  on  the  very  edge, 

Our  steps  we  stay'd.     It  was  an  area  wide 

Of  arid  sand  and  thick,  resembling  most 

The  soil  that  erst  by  Gate's  foot  was  trod.  15 

Vengeance  of  Heav'n !     Oh !    how   shouldst  thou  be 
fear'd 
By  all,  who  read  what  here  my  eyes  belield  ! 

Of  naked  spirits  many  a  flock  I  saw. 
All  weeping  piteously,  to  different  laws 
Subjected  :  for  on  the'  earth  some  lay  supine,  20 

Some  crouching  close  were  seated,  others  pac'd 
Incessantly  ai'ound  ;  the  latter  tribe, 
More  numerous,  those  fewer  wlio  beneath 


HEEL.  47 

The  torment  lay,  but  louder  in  their  grief. 

O'er  all  the  sand  fell  slowly  wafting  down  25 

Dilated  flakes  of  fire,  as  flakes  of  snow 
On  Alpine  summit,  when  the  wind  is  hush'd. 
As  in  the  torrid  Indian  clime,  the  son 
Of  Amnion  saw  ujion  his  warrior  band 
Descending,  solid  flames,  that  to  the  ground  30 

Came  down  :  whence  he  bethought  liim  with  his  troop 
To  trample  on  tlie  soil ;  for  easier  thus 
The  vapour  was  extinguish'd,  while  alone  ; 
So  fell  the  eternal  fiery  flood,  wherewith 
The  marble  glow'd  underneath,  as  \mder  stove  35 

Tlie  viands,  doubly  to  augment  the  ])ain. 
Unceasing  was  the  play  of  wretched  hands. 
Now  this,  now  that  way  glancing,  to  shake  off 
The  heat,  still  falling  fresh.     I  thus  began  : 
"  Instructor  !  thou  who  all  things  overcom'st,  40 

Except  the  hardy  demons,  that  rush'd  forth 
To  stop  our  entrance  at  the  gate,  say  who 
Is  yon  huge  spirit,  that,  as  seems,  heeds  not 
The  burning,  but  lies  writlien  in  proud  scorn, 
As  by  the  sultry  tempest  iramatur'd  '?"  45 

Straight  he  himself,  who  was  aware  I  ask'd 
My  guide  of  him,  exclaim'd  :  "  Such  as  I  was 
When  living,  dead  such  now  I  am.     If  Jove 
Weary  his  workman  out,  from  whom  in  ire 
He  snatch'd  the  lightnings,  that  at  my  last  day  50 

Transfix'd  me,  if  the  rest  be  weary  out 
At  their  black  smithy  labouring  by  turns 
In  Mongibello,  while  he  cries  aloud  ; 
'  Help,  help,  good  Mulciber  ! '  as  erst  he  cried 
In  the  Phlegraean  warfare,  and  the  bolts  55 

Launch  he  full  aim'd  at  me  with  all  his  might, 
He  never  should  enjoy  a  sweet  revenge." 

Then  thus  my  guide,  in  accent  higlier  rais'd 
Than  I  before  had  heard  liim  :  "  Capaneus  ! 
Thou  art  more  punisli'd,  in  that  this  thy  pride  60 

Lives  yet  unquench'd :  no  torrent,  save  thy  rage, 
Were  to  thy  fury  pain  proportion'd  full." 

Next  turning  round  to  me  witli  milder  lip 


48  IIEI.L. 

Ho  sj)!ikc  :  "  This  of  tlie  seven  kiiiL^s  was  oiu', 

Who  girt  tlio  Theban  walls  with  sicuje,  mid  iield,  65 

As  still  he  seems  to  hold,  God  in  (lis<lain. 

And  sets  his  hii!;h  onini])otence  at  nought. 

But,  as  I  told  him,  his  desj>itet"ul  mood 

Is  ornament  well  suits  the  breast  that  wears  it. 

Follow  me  now  ;  and  look  thou  set  not  yet  70 

Thy  foot  in  the  hot  sand,  Init  to  the  wood. 

Keep  ever  close."     Silently  on  we  pass'd 

To  whei-e  there  gushes  from  the  forest's  bound. 

A  little  brook,  whose  crimson'd  wave  yet  lifts 

My  hair  with  horror.     As  the  rill,  that  runs  75 

From  Bulicame,  to  be  portion'd  out 

Among  the  sinful  \vomen  ;  so  ran  this 

Down  through  the  sand,  its  bottom  and  each  bank 

Stone-built,  and  either  margin  at  its  side, 

Whereon  I  straight  pcrceiv'd  our  passage  lay.  80 

"Of  all  that  I  have  shown  thee,  since  that  gate 
We  enter'd  first,  whose  threshold  is  to  none 
Denied,  nouglit  else  so  worthy  of  regard, 
As  is  this  river,  has  tliine  eye  discern'd. 
O'er  which  the  flaming  volley  all  is  quench'd."  85 

So  spake  my  guide  ;  and  I  him  thence  besought, 
That  having  giv'n  me  appetite  to  know, 
The  food  he  too  would  give,  that  hunger  crav'd. 

"  In  midst  of  ocean,"  forthwith  he  began, 
"A  desolate  country  lies,  wliich  Crete  is  nam'd,  90 

Under  whose  monarch  in  old  times  the  world 
Liv'd  pure  and  chaste.     A  mountain  rises  there, 
Call'd  Ida,  joyous  once  with  leaves  and  streams, 
Deserted  now  like  a  forbidden  thing. 
It  was  the  spot  which  Rhea,  Saturn's  spoiise,  95 

Chose  for  the  secret  cradle  of  her  son ; 
And  better  to  conceal  him,  drown'd  in  shouts 
His  infant  cries.     Within  the  mount,  upright 
An  ancient  form  there  stands  and  huge,  that  turns 
His  shoulders  towards  Damiata,  and  at  Home  100 

As  in  his  mirror  looks.     Of  finest  gold 
His  head  is  sha|)'d,  ])ure  silver  are  the  breast 
And  arms ;  thence  to  tlie  middle  is  of  brass. 


HELL.  49 

And  downward  all  beneath  well-tcmper'd  steel, 

Save  the  right  foot  of  })otter's  clay,  on  which  105 

Than  on  the  other  more  erect  he  stands, 

Each  pai't  except  the  gold,  is  rent  thronghout ; 

And  from  the  fissure  tears  distil,  Avhich  join'd 

Penetrate  to  that  cave.     They  in  their  course 

Thus  far  precipitated  down  the  rock  110 

Form  Acheron,  and  Styx,  and  Phlegethon  ; 

Then  by  this  straiten'd  channel  passing  hence 

Beneath,  e'en  to  the  lowest  depth  of  all. 

Form  there  Cocytus,  of  whose  lake  (thyself 

Shall  see  it)  I  here  give  thee  no  account."  115       ] 

Then  I  to  him  :  "  If  from  our  world  this  sluice  | 

Be  thus  deriv'd  ;  wherefore  to  us  but  now  ] 

Appears  it  at  this  edge  ?  "     He  straight  replied  :  J 

"The  place,  thou  know'st,  is  round;  and  though  great      \ 
part  i 

Thou  have  already  pass'd,  still  to  the  left  liiO 

Descending  to  the  nethermost,  not  yet 
Hast  thou  the  circuit  made  of  the  Avholc  orb. 
Wherefore  if  aught  of  new  to  us  a]tpear. 
It  needs  not  bring  up  wonder  in  thy  looks." 

Then  I  again  inquir'd  :  "Where  flow  the  streams     125 
Of  Phlegethon  and  Lethe?  for  of  one 
Thou  tell'st  not,  and  the  other  of  that  shower, 
Thou  say'st,  is  form'd."     He  answer  thus  return'd : 
"Doubtless  thy  questions  all  well  pleas'd  I  hear. 
Yet  the  red  seething  wave  might  have  resolv'd  130 

One  thou  proposest.     Lethe  thou  shalt  see, 
But  not  within  this  hollow,  in  the  place. 
Whither  to  lave  themselves  the  spirits  go. 
Whose  blame  hath  been  by  penitence  remov'd." 
He  added  :  "  Time  is  now  we  quit  the  wood.  135 

Look  thou  my  steps  pursue  :  the  margins  give 
Safe  passage,  unimpeded  by  the  flames  ; 
For  over  them  all  vapour  is  extinct." 


50  HELL. 

CANTO  XV. 

One  of  tlie  solid  margins  bears  us  now 

Eiivelop'cl  in  the  mist,  tliat  from  tlie  stream 

Arising,  hovers  o'er,  and  saves  from  fire 

Botli  piers  and  Avater.     As  the  Flemings  rear 

Their  mound,  'twixt  Ghent  and  Bruges,  to  ehase  back  •  5 

The  ocean,  fearing  his  tumultuous  tide 

That  drives  toward  them,  or  the  Paduans  theirs 

Along  the  Brenta,  to  defend  their  towns 

And  castles,  ere  the  genial  warmth  be  felt 

On  Chiarentana's  top  ;  such  were  the  mounds,  10 

So  fram'd,  though  not  in  height  or  bulk  to  these 

Made  equal,  by  the  master,  whosoe'er 

He  was,  that  rais'd  them  here.     We  from  the  wood 

Were  not  so  far  remov'd,  that  turning  round 

I  might  not  have  discern'd  it,  wlien  we  met  15 

A  troop  of  spirits,  who  came  beside  the  jjier. 

They  each  one  ey'd  us,  as  at  eventide 
One  eyes  another  under  a  new  moon. 
And  toward  iis  sharpen'd  their  sight  as  keen, 
As  an  old  tailor  at  his  needle's  eye.  20 

Thus  narrowly  explor'd  by  all  the  tribe, 
I  was  agniz'd  of  one,  who  by  the  skirt 
Caught  me,  and  cried,  "  What  wonder  have  we  here  !  " 

And  I,  when  he  to  me  outstretch'd  his  arm, 
Intently  fix'd  my  ken  on  his  parch'd  looks,  25 

That  although  smirch'd  with  fire,  they  hinder'd  not 
But  I  remember'd  him  ;  and  towards  his  face 
My  hand  inclining,  answer'd  :  "Sir!  Brunetto! 
And  art  thou  here  ?  "     He  thus  to  me  :  "  My  son  ! 
Oh  let  it  not  displease  thee,  if  Brunetto  30 

Latini  but  a  little  space  with  thee 
Turn  back,  and  leave  his  fellows  to  proceed." 

I  thus  to  liini  replied  :  "  Much  as  I  can, 
I  thereto  pray  thee;  and  if  thou  be  willing. 
That  I  here  seat  me  with  thee,  I  consent ;  35 

His  leave,  with  whom  I  journey,  first  obtain'd." 

"  O  son  !  "  said  he,  "  whoever  of  tins  throng 
One  instant  stops,  lies  llien  a  hundred  years, 


IIEIJ..  51 

No  fan  to  ventilate  liim,  wlieii  tlio  tire 

Smites  sorest.     l*ass  tlion  tlierefore  on.     I  close  40 

Will  at  thy  ijannents  walk,  and  then  rejoin 

My  troo]i,  Avho  go  mourning  their  endless  doom." 

I  darM  not  from  the  jiath  descend  to  tread 
On  equal  ground  with  him,  but  held  my  head 
Bent  down,  as  one  who  walks  in  reverent  guise.  45 

"  What  chance  or  destiny,"  thus  be  began, 
"  Ere  the  last  day  conducts  thee  here  below  ? 
And  who  is  this,  that  shows  to  thee  the  way  ?  " 

"  There  up  aloft,"  I  answer'd,  "  in  the  life 
Serene,  I  wander'd  in  a  valley  lost,  50 

Before  mine  age  had  to  its  fulness  reach'd. 
But  yester-morn  I  left  it :  then  once  more 
Into  that  vale  returning,  him  I  met ; 
And  by  this  path  homeward  he  leads  me  back." 

"If  thou,"  he  answer'd,  "follow' but  thy  star,  55 

Thou  canst  not  miss  at  last  a  glorious  haven  : 
Unless  in  fairer  days  my  judgment  err'd. 
And  if  my  fate  so  early  had  not  chanc'd, 
Seeing  the  heav'ns  thus  bounteous  to  thee,  I 
Had  gladly  giv'n  thee  comfort  in  thy  work.  60 

But  tliat  ungrateful  and  malignant  race, 
Who  in  old  times  came  down  from  Fesole, 
Ay  and  still  smack  of  their  rough  mountain-flint, 
Will  for  thy  good  deeds  shew  thee  enmity. 
Nor  wonder  ;  for  amongst  ill-savour'd  crabs  65 

It  suits  not  the  sweet  fig-tree  lay  her  fruit. 
Old  fame  reports  them  in  the  Avorld  for  blind, 
Covetous,  envious,  proud.     Look  to  it  Avell : 
Take  heed  thou  cleanse  thee  of  their  ways.     For  thee 
Thy  fortune  hath  such  honour  in  reserve,  70 

That  thou  by  either  party  shalt  be  crav'd 
With  hunger  keen  :  but  be  the  fresh  herb  far 
Fi"om  the  goat's  tooth.     The  herd  of  Fesole 
May  of  themselves  make  litter,  not  touch  the  plant, 
If  any  such  yet  spring  on  their  rank  bed,  75 

In  which  the  holy  seed  revives,  transmitted 
From  those  true  Uomans,  who  still  there -rcmain'd, 
When  it  was  made  the  nest  of  so  much  ill." 


62  HELL. 

"Were  all  my  wish  fulfill'd,"  I  straight  re))lied, 
"  Thou  from  the  oonfhies  of  man's  nature  yet  80 

ITadst  not  been  driven  forth ;  for  in  my  mind 
Is  fix'd,  and  now  strikes  full  upon  my  lieart 
The  dear,  benign,  paternal  image,  such 
As  thine  was,  when  so  lately  thou  didst  teach  me 
The  way  for  man  to  win  eternity  ;  85 

And  how  I  priz'd  the  lesson,  it  behoves, 
That,  long  as  life  endures,  my  tongue  should  speak, 
What  of  my  fate  thou  tell'st,  that  write  I  down : 
And  with  another  text  to  comment  on 
For  her  I  keep  it,  the  celestial  dame,  90 

Who  will  know  all,  if  I  to  her  arrive. 
This  only  Avould  I  have  thee  clearly  note : 
That  so  my  conscience  have  no  plea  against  me; 
Do  fortune  as  she  list,  I  stand  prepar'd. 
Not  new  or  strange  such  earnest  to  mine  ear.  95 

Speed  fortune  then  her  wheel,  as  likes  her  best. 
The  clown  his  mattock;  all  things  have  their  course." 

Thereat  my  sapient  guide  upon  his  right 
Turn'd  himself  back,  then  look'd  at  me  and  spake  : 
"He  listens  to  good  purpose  who  takes  note."  100 

I  not  the  less  still  on  my  way  proceed, 
Discoursing  with  Brunette,  and  inquire 
Who  are  most  known  and  chief  among  his  tribe. 

"  To  know  of  some  is  well ;  "  thus  he  replied, 
"  But  of  the  rest  silence  may  best  beseem.  105 

Time  would  not  serve  us  for  report  so  long. 
In  brief  I  tell  thee,  that  all  these  were  clerks, 
Men  of  great  learning  and  no  less  renown, 
By  one  same  sin  polluted  in  the  world. 
With  them  is  Priscian,  and  Accorso's  son  110 

Francesco  herds  among  that  wretched  throng  : 
And,  if  the  wish  of  so  impure  a  blotch 
Possess'd  thee,  him  thou  also  might'st  have  seen, 
Who  by  the  servants'  servant  was  transferr'd 
From  Arno's  seat  to  Bacchiglione,  where  115 

His  ill-strain'd  nerves  he  left.     I  more  would  add, 
But  must  from  farther  speech  and  onward  way 
Alike  desist,  for  yonder  I  behold 


HELL.  16 

A  mist  new-risen  on  the  sandy  plain. 

A  company,  with  wliom  I  may  not  sort,  120 

Ap])roaches.     I  commend  my  Treasure  to  thee, 
Wherein  I  yet  survive  ;  my  sole  request." 

This  said  he  turn'd,  and  seem'd  as  one  of  those, 
Who  o'er  Verona's  champain  try  their  speed 
For  the  green  mantle,  and  of  them  he  seem'd,  120 

Not  he  who  loses  but  who  gains  the  prize. 


CANTO  XVI. 

Now  came  I  where  the  water's  din  was  heard. 

As  down  it  fell  into  the  other  round. 

Resounding  like  the  hum  of  swarming  bees  : 

When  forth  together  issu'd  from  a  troop, 

That  pass'd  beneath  the  fierce  tormenting  storm,  5 

Three  spirits,  running  SMift.     They  towards  us  came. 

And  each  one  cried  aloud,  "  Oh  do  thou  stay  ! 

Whom  by  the  fashion  of  thy  garb  we  deem 

To  be  some  inmate  of  our  evil  land." 

Ah  me  !  what  wounds  I  mark'd  upon  their  limbs,      10 
Recent  and  old,  inflicted  by  the  flames  ! 
E'en  the  remembrance  of  them  grieves  me  yet. 

Attentive  to  their  cry  my  teacher  paus'd. 
And  turn'd  to  me  his  visage,  and  then  spake ; 
"  Wait  noM' !  our  courtesy  these  merit  M'ell :  15 

And  were  't  not  for  the  nature  of  the  place. 
Whence  glide  the  fiery  darts,  I  should  have  said. 
That  haste  had  better  suited  thee  than  them." 

They,  when  we  stopp'd,  resum'd  their  ancient  wail, 
And  soon  as  they  had  reach'd  us,  all  the  three  20 

Whirl'd  round  together  in  one  restless  wheel. 
As  naked  chamjiions,  smear'd  with  slippery  oil, 
Are  wont  intent  to  watch  their  place  of  hold 
And  vantage,  ere  in  closer  strife  they  meet ; 
Thus  each  one,  as  he  wheel'd,  his  countenance  25 

At  me  directed,  so  that  opposite 
The  neck  mov'd  ever  to  the  twinkling  feet. 

"  If  misery  of  this  drear  wilderness," 


f4 


HEFX. 


Tims  one  bcc^an,  "  added  to  our  sad  cheer 

.And  destitute,  do  call  foilh  scoru  on  us  30 

And  our  entreaties,  let  our  great  renown 

Incline  thee  to  inform  us  who  thou  art, 

That  dost  imprint  Avith  living  feet  unharm'd 

The  soil  of  Hell.     lie,  in  whose  track  thou  see'&t 

My  ste])s  pursuing,  naked  though  he  be  35 

And  reft  of  all,  was  of  more  high  estate 

Than  thou  believest ;  grandchild  of  the  chaste 

Gualdrada,  him  they  Guidoguerracall'd, 

"Who  in  his  lifetime  many  a  noble  act 

Achiev'd,  both  by  his  "wisdom  and  his  sword.  40 

The  other,  next  to  me  that  beats  the  sand, 

Is  Aldobrandi,  name  deserving  well, 

In  the'  upper  world,  of  honour  ;  and  myself 

Who  in  this  torment  do  partake  wdth  them, 

Am  Rusticucci,  whom,  past  doubt,  my  Avife  45 

Of  savage  temper,  more  than  aught  beside 

Hath  to  this  e^il  brought."     If  from  the  fire 

I  had  been  shelter'd,  down  amidst  them  straight 

I  then  had  cast  me,  nor  my  guide,  I  deem. 

Would  have  restrain'd  my  going  ;  but  that  fear  50 

Of  the  dire  burning  vanquish'd  the  desire. 

Which  made  me  eager  of  their  wish'd  embrace. 

I  then  began  :  "  Not  scorn,  but  grief  much  more, 
Such  as  long  time  alone  can  cure,  your  doom 
Fix'd.  deep  within  me,  soon  as  this  my  lord  55 

Spake  words,  whose  tenour  taught  me  to  exjDCct 
That  such  a  race,  as  ye  are,  was  at  hand, 
I  am  a  countryman  of  yours,  who  still 
Affectionate  have  utter'd,  and  have  heard 
Your  deeds  and  names  renown'd.     Leaving  the  gall      60 
For  the  sweet  fruit  I  go,  that  a  sure  guide 
Hath  promis'd  to  me.     But  behoves,  that  far 
As  to  the  centre  first  I  downward  tend." 

"  So  may  long  space  thy  spirit  guide  thy  limbs," 
He  answer  straight  return'd  ;  "  and  so  thy  fame  65 

Shine  bright,  when  thou  art  gone  ;  as  thou  shalt  tell, 
If  courtesy  and  valour,  as  they  Avont, 
Dwell  in  our  city,  or  have  vanish'd  clean? 


HKLT,.  55 

Foe  one  amidst  us  lato  condciiiuM  to  wail, 

Borsiere,  yonder  walkiii<r  witli  liis  ])ecM-s,  70 

Grieves  us  no  little  l)y  tlie  news  he  brings." 

"An  upstart  multitude  and  sudden  gains, 
Pride  and  excess,  O  Florence  !  have  in  thee 
Engender'd,  so  that  now  in  tears  tliou  mourn'st !  " 
Thus  cried  I  with  my  face  uprais'd,  and  they  75 

All  three,  who  for  an  answer  took  my  Avords, 
Look'd  at  each  other,  as  men  look  when  truth 
Comes  to  their  ear.     "  If  thou  at  other  times," 
They  all  at  once  rejoin'd,  "  so  easily 

Satisfy  those,  who  question,  happy  thou,  80 

Gifted  with  words,  so  apt  to  s})eak  thy  thought ! 
Wherefore  if  thou  escape  this  darksome  clime, 
Returning  to  behold  the  radiant  stars. 
When  thou  with  pleasure  shalt  retrace  the  past, 
Sec  that  of  us  thou  speak  among  mankind."  85 

Tliis  said,  they  broke  the  circle,  and  so  swift 
Fled,  that  as  pinions  seem'd  their  nimble  feet. 

Not  in  so  short  a  time  might  one  have  said 
"Amen,"  as  they  had  vanish'd.     Straight  my  guide 
Pursu'd  his  track.     I  follow'd  ;  and  small  space  90 

Had  we  j^ass'd  onward,  when  the  water's  sound 
Was  now  so  near  at  hand,  that  we  had  scarce 
Heard  one  another's  speech  for  the  loud  din. 

E'en  as  the  river,  that  holds  on  its  course 
Unmingled,  from  the  mount  of  Vesulo,  95 

On  the  left  side  of  Apennine,  toward 
The  east,  which  Acquacheta  higher  up 
They  call,  ere  it  descend  into  the  vale, 
At  Forli  by  that  name  no  longer  known. 
Rebellows  o'er  Saint  Benedict,  roll'd  on  100 

From  the'  Al])ine  summit  down  a  precipice. 
Where  space  enough  to  lodge  a  thousand  spreads  ; 
Thus  downward  from  a  craggy  steep  we  found. 
That  this  dark  wave  resounded,  roaring  loud. 
So  that  the  ear  its  clamour  soon  had  stunn'd.  105 

I  hud  a  cord  that  brac'd  my  girdle  round. 
Wherewith  I  erst  had  thought  fast  bound  to  take 
The  painted  leopard.     This  when  I  had  all 


56  nmj.. 

Uiiloosen'd  from  me  (so  my  master  bade) 

I  oatlier'd  up,  and  strctcli'd  it  forth  to  l>im.  110 

Then  to  tlie  right  he  turn'd,  nud  from  tlie  brink 

Standing  few  ])aces  distant,  cast  it  down 

Into  the  deep  abyss.     "And  somewliat  strange," 

Thus  to  myself  I  spake,  "  signal  so  strange 

Betokens,  which  my  guide  with  earnest  eye  115 

Tlius  follows."     Ah  !  what  caution  must  men  use 

With  those  who  look  not  at  the  deed  alone, 

But  spy  into  the  thoughts  with  subtle  skill ! 

"  Quickly  shall  come,"  he  said,  "  what  I  expeet, 
Thine  eye  discover  quickly,  that  whereof  120 

Thy  thought  is  dreaming."     Ever  to  that  truth, 
Which  but  the  semblance  of  a  falsehood  wears, 
A  man,  if  possible,  should  bar  his  lip  ; 
Since,  although  blameless,  he  incurs  reproach. 
Biit  silence  here  were  vain  ;  and  by  these  notes  125 

Which  now  I  sing,  reader  !  I  swear  to  thee, 
So  may  they  favour  find  to  latest  times ! 
That  through  the  gross  and  murky  air  I  spied 
A  shape  come  swimming  up,  that  might  have  quell'd 
The  stoutest  heart  Avith  wonder,  in  such  guise  130 

As  one  returns,  who  hath  been  down  to  loose 
An  anchor  grappled  fast  against  some  rock, 
Or  to  aught  else  that  in  the  salt  wave  lies. 
Who  upward  springing  close  draws  in  his  feet. 


CANTO  XVII. 

"  Lo !  the  fell  monster  with  the  deadly  sting  ! 

Who  ]>asses  mountains,  breaks  through  fenced  walls 

And  firm  embattled  spears,  and  with  his  filth 

Taints  all  the  world  ! "     Thus  me  my  guide  address'd, 

And  beckon'd  him,  that  he  should  come  to  shore,  5 

Near  to  the  stony  causeway's  utmost  edge. 

Forthwith  that  image  vile  of  fraud  appear'd, 
His  head  and  np])er  ])art  expos'd  on  land, 
But  laid  not  on  the  sliore  his  bestial  train. 
His  face  the  semblance  of  a  just  man's  wore,  10 


iiErx.  57 

So  kind  and  gracious  was  its  outward  clieer ; 

The  rest  was  serpent  all:  two  shaggy  claws 

Keach'd  to  the  armpits,  and  the  back  and  breast, 

And  eitlier  side,  were  painted  o'er  with  nodes 

And  orbits.     Colours  variegated  more  15 

Nor  Turks  nor  Tartars  e'er  on  cloth  of  state 

With  interchangeable  embroidery  wove, 

Nor  spread  Arachne  o'er  her  curious  loom. 

As  ofttimes  a  light  skiff,  moor'd  to  the  shore. 

Stands  part  in  water,  part  iipon  the  land ;  20 

Or,  as  where  dwells  the  greedy  German  boor, 

The  beaver  settles  watching  for  his  prey  ; 

So  on  the  rim,  that  fenc'd  the  sand  with  rock, 

Sat  perch'd  the  fiend  of  evil.     In  the  void 

Glancing,  his  tail  upturn'd  its  venomous  fork,  25 

With  sting  like  scorpion's  arm'd.     Then  thus  my  guide  : 

"  Now  need  our  way  must  turn  few  steps  apart. 

Far  as  to  that  ill  beast,  who  couches  tliere." 

Thereat  toward  the  right  our  downward  course 
We  shap'd,  and,  better  to  escape  the  flame  30 

And  burning  marie,  ten  paces  on  the  verge  I 

Proceeded.     Soon  as  we  to  him  arrive, 
A  little  further  on  mine  eye  beholds 
A  tribe  of  spirits,  seated  on  the  sand 
Near  the  wide  chasm.     Forthwith  my  master  spake  :    35 
"  That  to  the  full  thy  knowledge  may  extend 
Of  all  this  round  contains,  go  now,  and  mark 
The  mien  these  wear :  but  hold  not  long  discourse. 
Till  thou  returnest,  I  M'ith  him  meantime 
Will  parley,  that  to  us  he  may  vouchsafe  40 

The  aid  of  his  strong  shoulders."     Thus  alone 
Yet  forward  on  the'  extremity  I  pac'd 
Of  that  seventh  circle,  where  the  mournful  tribe 
Were  seated.     At  the  eyes  forth  gush'd  their  pangs. 
Against  the  vapours  and  the  torrid  soil  45 

Alternately  their  shifting  hands  they  plied. 
Thus  use  the  dogs  in  sunmier  still  to  ply 
Their  jaws  and  feet  by  turns,  when  bitten  sore 
By  gnats,  or  flies,  or  gadflies  swarming  round. 

Noting  the  visages  of  some,  who  lay  50 


58  HKLL. 

Beneatli  tlio  polling  of  that  dolorous  fire, 

One  of  tliom  all  I  knew  not  ;  but  perceiv'd, 

That  pendent  from  his  neck  each  bore  a  pouch 

Witli  colours  and  with  emblems  A^arious  mark'd, 

On  which  it  seem'd  as  if  their  eye  did  feed.  55 

And  when  amongst  them  looking  round  I  came, 
A  yellow  purse  I  saw  with  azure  wrought. 
That  wore  a  lion's  countenance  and  port. 
Then  still  my  sight  pursuing  its  career. 
Another  I  beheld,  than  blood  more  red.  60 

A  goose  display  of  whiter  wing  than  curd. 
And  one,  wlio  bore  a  fat  and  azure  swine 
Pictur'd  on  his  white  scrip,  addressed  me  thus: 
"  What  dost  thou  in  this  deep  ?     Go  now  and  know. 
Since  yet  thou  livest,  that  my  neighbour  here  65 

Vitaliano  on  my  left  shall  sit. 
A  Paduan  with  these  Florentines  am  I. 
Ofttimes  they  thunder  in  mine  ears,  exclaiming 
'O  haste  that  noble  knight !  he  who  the  pouch 
'  With   the   three  beaks   will   bring ! ' "     This   said,   he 
writh'd  70 

The  mouth,  and  loU'd  the  tongue  out,  like  an  ox 
That  licks  his  nostrils.     I,  lest  longer  stay 
He  ill  might  brook,  who  bade  me  stay  not  long. 
Backward  my  steps  from  those  sad  spirits  turn'd. 

My  guide  already  seated  on  the  haunch  75 

Of  the  tierce  animal  I  found  ;  and  thus 
Pie  me  encourag'd,     "  Be  thou  stout ;  be  bold. 
Down  such  a  steep  flight  must  we  now  descend  ! 
Mount  thou  before :  for  that  no  power  the  tail 
May  have  to  harm  thee,  I  will  be  i'  th'  midst."  80 

As  one,  who  hath  an  ague  fit  so  near, 
His  nails  already  are  turn'd  blue,  and  he 
Quivers  all  o'er,  if  he  but  eye  the  shade  ; 
Such  was  my  cheer  at  hearing  of  his  words. 
But  shame  soon  interpos'd  her  threat,  who  makes  85 

The  servant  bold  in  presence  of  his  lord. 

I  settled  me  upon  those  shoulders  huge. 
And  would  have  said,  but  that  the  words  to  aid 
My  purpose  came  not,  "  Look  thou  clasp  me  firm  !  " 


HKLL.  59 

But  ho  whose  succonv  then  not  first  I  prov'd,  90 

Soon  as  I  mounted,  in  liis  arms  aloft, 
Embracing,  lield  me  u]),  and  thus  lie  spake  : 
"  Geryon  !  now  move  thee  !  be  thy  wheeling  gyres 
Of  am])le  circuit,  easy  thy  descent. 
Think  on  th'  unusual  burden  thou  sustain'st."  95 

As  a  small  vessel,  back'ning  out  from  land, 
Her  station  quits ;  so  thence  the  monster  loos'd, 
And  when  he  felt  himself  at  large,  turn'd  round 
There  where  the  breast  had  been,  his  forked  tail. 
Thus,  like  an  eel,  outstretch'd  at  length  he  steer'd,       100 
Gath'ring  the  air  up  with  retractile  claws. 

Not  greater  was  the  dread  when  Phaeton 
The  reins  let  drop  at  random,  whence  high  heaven, 
Whereof  signs  y(;t  aj'tpear,  was  wrapt  in  flames  ; 
Nor  when  ill-fated  Icarus  perceiv'd,  105 

By  liquefaction  of  the  scalded  wax. 
The  trusted  ])ennons  loosen'd  from  his  loins, 
Plis  sire  exclaiming  loud,  "  111  way  thou  kee])'st !  " 
Than  was  my  dread,  when  round  me  on  each  part 
The  air  I  view'd,  and  other  object  none  110 

Save  the  fell  beast.     He  slowly  sailing,  wheels 
His  downward  motion,  unobserv'd  of  me, 
But  that  the  wind,  arising  to  my  face, 
Breathes  on  me  from  below.     Now  on  our  right 
I  heard  the  cataract  beneath  us  leap  115 

With  hideous  crash  ;  whence  bending  down  to'  explore. 
New  terror  I  conceiv'd  at  the  steep  plunge  : 
For  flames  I  saw,  and  wailings  smote  mine  ear  : 
So  that  all  trembling  close  I  crouch'd  my  limbs, 
And  then  distinguish'd,  unperceiv'd  before,  120 

By  the  dread  torments  that  on  every  side 
Drew  nearer,  how  our  downward  course  we  wound. 

As  falcon,  that  hath  long  been  on  the  wing. 
But  lure  nor  bird  hath  seen,  while  in  despair 
The  falconer  cries,  "  Ah  me  !  thou  stoop'st  to  earth !  " 
Wearied  descends,  and  swiftly  down  the  sky  126 

In  many  an  orbit  wheels,  then  lighting  sits 
At  distance  from  his  lord  in  angry  mood  ; 
So  Geryon  lighting  places  us  on  foot 


fiO  ITKLT,. 

l«ow  down  at  base  of  tlio  dcep-l'urrow'd  rock,  130 

And,  of  liis  bui'dcn  llic^re  discliai'g'd,  fortliwith 
Sprang  forward,  like  an  arrow  from  the  string. 


CANTO  XVIII. 

There  is  a  place  within  the  depths  of  hell 

Call'd  Malebolge,  all  of  rock  dark-stain'd 

Witli  hue  ferruginous,  e'en  as  the  steep 

Tliat  round  it  circling  Mands.     Kight  in  the  midst 

Of  that  abominable  region,  yaAvns  5 

A  spacious  gulf  profound,  whereof  the  frame 

Due  time  shall  tell.     The  circle,  that  remains. 

Throughout  its  round,  between  the  gulf  and  base 

Of  the  high  craggy  banks,  successive  forms 

Ten  trenches,  in  its  hollow  bottom  sunk.  10 

As  where  to  guard  the  walls,  full  many  a  foss 
Begirds  some  stately  castle,  sure  defence 
Affording  to  the  space  within,  so  here 
Were  model'd  these ;  and  as  like  fortresses 
E'en  from  their  threshold  to  the  brink  without,  15 

Are  flank'd  M'ith  bridges;  from  the  rock's  low  base 
Thns  flinty  paths  advanc'd,  that  'cross  the  moles 
And  dikes,  struck  onward  far  as  to  the  gulf. 
That  in  one  bound  collected  cuts  them  off. 
Such  was  the  place,  wherein  we  fonnd  ourselves  20 

From  Geryon's  back  dislodg'd.     The  bard  to  left 
Held  on  his  way,  and  I  behind  him  mov'd. 

On  our  right  hand  new  misery  I  saw, 
New  pains,  new  executioners  of  wrath, 
Tiiat  swarming  peopled  the  first  chasm.     Below  25 

Were  naked  sinners.     Hitherward  they  came, 
Meeting  our  faces  from  the  middle  point. 
With  ns  beyond  but  with  a  larger  stride. 
E'en  thus  the  Romans,  when  the  year  returns 
Of  Jubilee,  with  better  speed  to  rid  30 

The  thronging  multitudes,  their  means  devise 
For  such  as  pass  the  bridge  ;  that  on  one  side 
I    All  front  toward  the  castle,  and  approach 


HELL.  61 

Saint  Peter's  fane,  on  th'  otlier  towards  the  mount. 

Eacli  divers  way  alonof  the  grisly  rock,  35 

Horn'd  demons  I  belield,  witli  laslies  huge, 
Tl;at  on  tlieir  back  unmercifully  smote. 
Ah  !  liow  they  made  them  bound  at  the  first  stri|)e  ! 
None  for  tlie  second  waited  nor  the  third. 

Meantime  as  on  I  pass'd,  one  met  my  sight  40 

Whom  soon  as  view'd  ;  "  Of  him,"  cried  I,  "  not  yet 
Mine  eye  hath  had  his  fill."     With  fixed  gaze 
I  therefore  scann'd  him.     Straight  the  teacher  kind 
Paus'd  with  me,  and  consented  I  should  walk 
Backward  a  space,  and  the  tormented  spirit,  45 

Who  thought  to  hide  him,  bent  his  visage  down. 
But  it  avail'd  him  nought ;  for  I  exclaim'd  : 
"  Thou  Avho  dost  cast  thy  eye  upon  the  ground, 
Unless  thy  features  do  belie  thee  much, 
Venedico  art  thou.     But  what  brings  thee  50 

Into  this  bitter  seas'ning?"     He  replied  : 
"Unwillingly  I  answer  to  thy  Avords. 
But  thy  clear  speech,  that  to  my  mind  recalls 
The  world  I  once  inhabited,  constrains  me. 
Know  then  'twas  I  who  led  fair  Ghisola  55 

To  do  the  Marquis'  will,  however  fame 
The  shameful  tale  have  bruited.     Nor  alone 
Bologna  hither  sendeth  me  to  mourn. 
Rather  with  us  the  place  is  so  o'erthrong'd 
That  not  so  many  tongues  this  day  are  taught,  CO 

Betwixt  the  Reno  and  Savena's  stream, 
To  answer  Sij)ci  in  their  country's  phrase. 
And  if  of  that  securer  proof  thou  need, 
Remember  but  our  craving  thirst  for  gold." 

Him  speaking  thus,  a  demon  with  his  thong  C5 

Struck,  and  exclaim'd,  "  Away !  corrupter  !  here 
Women  are  none  for  sale."     Forthwith  I  join'd 
My  escort,  and  few  paces  thence  we  came 
To  where  a  rock  forth  issued  from  the  bank. 
That  easily  ascended,  to  the  right  70 

Upon  its  splinter  turning,  we  depart 
From  those  eternal  barriers.     When  arriv'd, 
Where  underneath  the  gaping  arch  lets  pass 


62  iiKi.r-. 

The  scourgecl  souls :  "  Pause  liorc,"  tlic  teacher  said, 
"And  let  these  others  miserable,  now  75 

Strike  on  thy  ken,  faces  not  yet  beheld, 
For  that  together  they  with  us  have  walk'd." 

From  tlie  old  bridge  we  ey'd  the  pack,  who  came 
From  th'  other  side  towards  us,  like  the  rest, 
Excoriate  from  the  lash.     My  gentle  guide,  80 

By  me  unquestion'd,  thus  Ins  si)eech  resum'd  : 
"  Behold  that  lofty  shade,  who  this  way  tends, 
And  seems  too  woe-begone  to  drop  a  tear. 
How  yet  the  regal  asjiect  he  retains  ! 

Jason  is  he,  whose  skill  and  ])rowess  won  85 

The  ram  from  Colclios.     To  the  Lemnian  isle 
His  passage  thither  led  him,  when  those  bold 
And  pitiless  women  had  slain  all  their  males. 
There  he  with  tokens  and  fair  witching  words 
Hypsipyle  bf^guil'd,  a  virgin  young,  90 

Who  first  had  all  the  rest  herself  beguil'd. 
Impregnated  he  left  her  there  forlorn. 
Such  is  the  guilt  condemns  him  to  this  j^ain. 
Here  too  Medea's  inj'ries  are  avenged. 
All  bear  him  company,  who  like  deceit  95 

To  his  have  practis'd.     And  thus  much  to  know 
Of  the  first  vale  suflice  thee,  and  of  those 
Whom  its  keen  torments  urge."     Now  had  ■we  come 
Where,  crossing  the  next  pier,  the  straighten'd  path 
Bestrides  its  shoulders  to  another  arch.  100 

Hence  in  the  second  chasm  we  heard  the  ghosts, 
Who  jibber  in  low  melancholy  sounds, 
With  wide-stretch'd  nostrils  snort,  and  on  themselves 
Smite  M'ith  their  palms.     Upon  the  banks  a  scurf 
From  the  foiil  steam  condens'd,  encrusting  hung,         105 
That  held  sharp  combat  with  the  sight  and  smell. 

So  hollow  is  the  depth,  that  from  no  part, 
Save  on  the  summit  of  the  rocky  span, 
Could  I  distinguish  aught.     Tims  far  we  came ; 
And  thence  I  saw,  within  the  foss  below,  110 

A  crowd  immers'd  in  ordure,  that  appear'd 
Draff  of  the  human  body.     There  beneath 
Searching  with  eye  inquisitive,  I  mark VI 


HELL.  fi;j 

One  with  his  head  so  grim'd,  't  were  hard  to  deem, 

If  he  were  clerk  or  layman.     Loud  he  cried  :  115 

"Why  greedily  thus  bendest  more  on  nie, 

Than  on  these  other  filthy  ones,  tliy  ken  ?  " 

"Because  if  true  my  mem'ry,"  I  replied, 
"  I  heretofore  have  seen  thee  with  dry  locks, 
And  thou  Alcssio  art  of  Lucca  sprung-.  120 

Therefore  than  all  the  rest  I  scan  thee  more." 

Then  beating  on  his  brain  these  words  he  spake  : 
"  Me  thus  low  down  my  flatteries  haA^e  sunk. 
Wherewith  I  ne'er  enough  could  glut  my  tongue." 

My  leader  thus  :  "  A  tittle  further  stretch  125 

Thy  face,  that  thou  the  visage  well  mayst  note 
Of  that  besotted,  sluttish  courtezan, 
Who  there  doth  rend  her  with  defiled  nails, 
Now  crouching  down,  now  risen  on  her  feet. 
Thais  is  this,  the  harlot,  whose  false  lip  130 

Answer'd  her  doting  ])aramour  that  ask'd, 
'  Thankest  me  much  ! ' — '  Say  rather  wondrously,' 
And  seeing  this  here  satiate  be  our  view." 


CANTO  XIX. 

Woe  to  thee,  Simon  Magus !  woe  to  you. 

His  wretched  followers  !  who  the  things  of  God, 

Which  should  be  wedded  iinto  goodness,  them, 

Raj)acious  as  ye  are,  do  prostitute 

For  gold  and  silver  in  adultery  !  5 

Now  must  the  trumpet  sound  for  you,  since  yours 

Is  the  third  chasm.     Upon  the  following  vault 

We  now  had  mounted,  where  the  rock  impends 

Directly  o'er  the  centre  of  the  foss. 

Wisdom  Supreme  !  how  Avonderful  the  art,  10 

Which  thou  dost  manifest  in  heaven,  in  earth, 
And  in  th^i'  evil  world,  how  just  a  meed 
Allotting  by  thy  virtue  unto  all ! 

I  saw  the  livid  stone,  throughout  the  sides 
And  in  its  bottom  full  of  ajiertures,  15 

Ail  equal  in  their  width,  and  circular  each, 


64  BELL. 

Nor  ample  less  nor  larger  tlicy  appear'd, 

Tliun  in  Saint  Jolui's  fair  dome  of  me  belov'd 

Those  fram'd  to  hold  tlie  j)ure  baptismal  streams, 

One  of  the  which  I  brake,  some  few  years  past,  20 

To  save  a  wlielming  infant ;  and  be  this 

A  seal  to  undeceive  whoever  doubts 

The  motive  of  my  deed.     From  out  the  mouth 

Of  every  one,  emerged  a  sinner's  feet 

And  of  the  legs  high  u|)ward  as  the  calf  25 

The  rest  beneath  was  hid.     On  either  foot 

The  soles  were  burning,  whence  the  flexile  joints 

Glanc'd  with  such  violent  motion,  as  had  suapt 

Asunder  cords  or  twisted  withs.     As  flame, 

Feeding  on  inictuous  matter,  glides  along  30 

The  surface,  scarcely  touching  where  it  moves  ; 

So  here,  from  heel  to  point,  glided  the  flames. 

"  Master  !  say  who  is  he,  than  all  the  rest 
Glancing  in  fiercer  agony,  on  whom 
A  ruddier  flame  doth  prey?"  I  thus  inquir'd.  35 

"If  thou  be  willing,"  he  replied,  "  that  I 
Carry  thee  down,  where  least  the  slope  bank  falls. 
He  of  himself  shall  tell  thee  and  his  wrongs." 

I  then  :  "  As  pleases  thee  to  me  is  best. 
Thou  art  my  lord  ;  and  know'st  that  ne'er  I  quit  40 

Thy  will :  what  silence  hides  that  knowest  thou." 
Thereat  on  the  fourth  pier  we  came,  we  turn'd, 
And  on  our  left  descended  to  the  depth, 
A  narrow  strait  and  jDerforated  close. 
Nor  from  his  side  my  leader  set  me  down,  45 

Till  to  his  orifice  he  brought,  whose  limb 
Quiv'ring  express'd  his  pang.     "  Whoe'er  thou  art. 
Sad  spirit !  thus  revers'd,  and  as  a  stake 
Driv'n  in  the  soil !  "  I  in  these  Avords  began, 
"  If  thou  be  able,  utter  forth  thy  A^oice."  50 

There  stood  I  like  the  friar,  that  doth  shrive 
A  wretch  for  murder  doom'd,  who  e'en  when  fix'd, 
Calleth  him  back,  whence  death  awhile  delays. 

He  shouted  :  "  Ha  !  already  standest  there? 
Already  standest  there,  O  Boniface  !  55 

By  many  a  year  the  writing  play'd  me  false. 

ITil •nrfwi'Mlfliillill ■■ MiiN  -      - 


HELL.  65 

80  early  <lost  tliou  surfeit  with  the  wealth, 
For  whicli  thou  fearetlst  not  in  o-uile  to  take 
The  lovely  lady,  and  then  mangle  her  ?  " 

I  felt  as  those  who,  piercing  not  the  drift  60 

Of  answer  made  them,  stand  as  if  expos'd 
In  mockery,  nor  know  what  to  re]»ly. 
When  Yirgil  thus  admonish'd  :  "  Tell  him  quick, 
I  am  not  he,  not  he,  whom  thou  believ'st." 

And  I,  as  Avas  enjoinVl  me,  straight  replied.  65 

That  heard,  the  spirit  all  did  wrench  liis  feet, 
And  sighing  next  in  woeful  accent  spake  : 
"  What  then  of  me  requirest  ?     If  to  know 
So  much  imports  thee,  who  I  am,  that  thou 
Hast  therefore  down  the  bank  descended,  learn  70 

That  in  the  mighty  mantle  I  Avas  rob'd, 
And  of  a  she-bear  was  indeed  the  son. 
So  eager  to  advance  my  Avhelps,  that  there 
My  having  in  my  purse  above  I  stow'd, 
And  here  myself.     Under  my  head  are  dragg'd  75 

The  rest,  my  predecessors  in  the  guilt 
Of  simony.     Stretch'd  at  their  length  they  lie 
Along  an  opening  in  the  rock.     'Midst  them 
I  also  low  shall  fall,  soon  as  he  comes. 
For  whom  I  took  thee,  Avhen  so  hastily  80 

I  question'd.     But  already  longer  time 
Hath  pass'd,  since  my  souls  kindled,  and  I  thus 
Upturn'd  have  stood,  than  is  his  doom  to  stand 
Planted  with  fiery  feet.     For  after  him, 
One  yet  of  deeds  more  ugly  shall  arrive,  85 

From  forth  the  Avest,  a  shej)herd  Avdthout  law. 
Fated  to  cover  both  his  form  and  mine. 
He  a  ncAV  Jason  shall  be  call'd,  of  Avhom 
In  Maccabees  Ave  read  ;  and  favour  such- 
As  to  that  priest  his  king  indulgent  shoAv'd,  90 

Shall  be  of  France's  monarch  shoAvn  to  him." 

I  knoAv  not  if  I  here  too  far  jn-esum'd,  I 

But  in  this  strain  I  ansAver'd  :  "  Tell  me  now,  | 

What  treasures  from  St.  Peter  at  the  first  i 

Our  Lord  demanded,  when  he  put  the  keys  95       ^ 

Into  his  charge  ?     Surely  he  ask'd  no  more 


66  HELL. 

But,  Follow  \ne ! '  Nor  Peter  nor  the  rest 

Or  gold  or  silver  of  JMatlliias  took, 

When  lots  were  east  ii]»on  the  forfeit  ]»lace 

Of  the  condemned  soul.     A1)i(]e  thou  then  ;  100 

Thy  punishment  of  right  is  merited  : 

And  look  thou  well  to  that  ill-gotten  coin, 

Wliich  against  Charles  thy  hardihood  inspir'd. 

If  reverence  of  the  keys  restrain'd  nie  not, 

Which  thou  in  ha])])ier  time  didst  hold,  I  yet  105 

Severer  speech  might  use.     Your  avarice 

Overcasts  the  world  with  mourning,  under  foot 

Treading  the  good,  and  raising  bad  men  up. 

Of  shepherds,  like  to  you,  th'  Evangelist 

Was  ware,  when  her,  who  sits  i;j)on  tlie  waves,  110 

With  kings  in  filthy  whoredom  he  beheld. 

She  who  with  seven  heads  tower'd  at  her  birth, 

And  from  ten  horns  her  proof  of  gloiy  drew, 

Long  as  her  spouse  in  virtue  took  delight. 

Of  gold  and  silver  ye  have  made  your  god,  115 

Diff'ring  wherein  from  the  idolater. 

But  he  that  worships  one,  a  hundred  ye  ? 

Ah,  Constantine  !  to  how^  much  ill  gave  birth, 

Not  thy  conversion,  but  that  plenteous  dower. 

Which  the  first  wealthy  Father  gain'd  from  thee  !  "     120 

Meanwhile,  as  thus  I  sung,  he,  whether  wrath 
Or  conscience  smote  him,  violent  upsprang 
Spinning  on  either  sole.     I  do  believe 
My  teacher  well  was  pleas'd,  with  so  comi:»os'd 
A  lip,  he  iisten'd  ever  to  the  sound  125 

Of  the  true  words  I  iitter'd.     In  both  arms 
He  caught,  and  to  his  bosom  lifting  me 
Upward  retrac'd  the  Avay  of  his  descent. 

Nor  weary  of  his  weight  he  press'd  me  close, 
Till  to  the  summit  of  the  rock  we  came,  130 

Our  passage  from  the  fourth  to  the  fifth  pier. 
His  cherish'd  burden  there  gently  he  plac'd 
Upon  the  rugged  rock  and  steep,  a  })ath 
Not  easy  for  the  clamb'ring  goat  to  mount. 

Thence  to  my  view  another  vale  appear'd.  135 


HELL.  67 

CANTO  XX. 

And  now  the  verse  proceeds  to  toi-nients  new, 

Fit  argument  of  this  the  twentietli  strain 

Of  the  fii'st  song,  whose  awful  tlienie  records 

The  spirits  whehn'd  in  woe.     Earnest  I  look'd 

Into  the  depth,  that  oi)en'd  to  my  view,  5 

Moisten'd  with  tears  of  anguish,  and  beliekl 

A  tribe,  that  came  along  the  hollow  vale, 

In  silence  weeping :  such  their  step  as  walk 

Quires  chanting  solemn  litanies  on  earth. 

As  on  them  more  direct  mine  eye  descends,  10 

Each  wonderously  seem'd  to  be  revers'd 
At  the  neck-bone,  so  that  the  countenance 
Was  from  the  reins  averted  :  and  because 
None  might  before  him  look,  they  were  compell'd 
To'  advance  with  backward  gait.     Thus  one  perhaps     15 
Ilath  been  by  force  of  palsy  clean  transpos'd. 
But  I  ne'er  saw  it  nor  believe  it  so. 

Now,  reader  !  think  within  thyself,  so  God 
Fruit  of  thy  reading  give  thee  !  how  I  long 
Could  keep  my  visage  dry,  when  I  beheld  20 

Near  me  our  form  distorted  in  such  guise. 
That  on  the  hinder  parts  fall'n  from  the  face 
The  tears  down-streaming  roll'd.     Against  ii  rock 
I  leant  and  wept,  so  that  my  guide  exclaim'd  : 
"  What,  and  art  thou  too  witless  as  the  rest  ?  25 

Here  pity  most  doth  show  herself  alive. 
When  she  is  dead.     What  guilt  exceedeth  his. 
Who  with  Heaven's  judgment  in  his  passion  strives? 
Raise  up  thy  head,  raise  up,  and  see  the  man. 
Before  whose  eyes  earth  gap'd  in  Thebes,  when  all        30 
Cried  out,  '  Amphiaraus,  whither  rushest  ? 
'  Why  leavest  thou  the  war  ?  '     He  not  the  less 
Fell  ruining  far  as  to  Minos  down. 
Whose  gra])ple  none  eludes.     Lo  !  how  he  makes 
The  breast  his  shoulders,  and  who  once  too  far  35 

Before  him  wish'd  to  see,  now  backward  looks, 
And  treads  reverse  his  patli.     Tiresias  note, 
Who  semblance  chang'd,  when  woman  he  became 


68  HELL. 

Of  male,  througli  every  liinl)  transfonuM,  and  then 
Once  more  behovM  liiiii  willi  liis  rod  to  strike  40 

The  two  entwining  serpents,  ere  the  plumes, 
That  mark'd  tlie  better  sex,  mii^Iit  slioot  again. 

"  Ai-iuis,  with  i-ere  liis  belly  I'aein;^,  comes. 
On  Liiiii's  mountains  'midst  the  marl)les  white, 
AVliere  delves  Can-ara's  hind,  who  wons  beneatli,  45 

A  cavern  was  his  dwelling,  wlience  the  stars 
And  main-sea  wide  in  boundless  view  he  held. 

"  The  next,  Avhose  loosen'd  tresses  overspread 
Her  bosom,  which  thou  seest  not  (for  each  liair 
On  that  side  grows)  was  Manto,  she  who  search'd  50 

Through  many  i-egions,  and  at  length  her  seat 
Fix'd  in  my  native  land,  whence  a  short  space 
My  words  detain  thy  audience.     When  her  sire 
From  life  departed,  and  in  servitude 

The  city  dedicate  to  Bacchus  mourn'd,  55 

Long  time  she  went  a  wand'rer  through  the  Avorld. 
Aloft  in  Italy's  delightful  land 
A  lake  there  lies,  at  foot  of  that  proud  Alp, 
That  o'er  tlie  Tyrol  locks  Germania  in, 
Its  name  Benacus,  which  a  thousand  rills,  60 

Methinks,  and  more,  water  between  the  vale 
Camonica  and  Garda  and  the  height 
Of  Apennine  remote.     There  is  a  spot 
At  midway  of  that  lake,  where  he  who  bears 
Of  Trento's  flock  the  past'ral  staff,  with  him  65 

Of  Brescia,  and  the  Veronese,  might  each 
Passing  that  Avay  his  benediction  give. 
A  garrison  of  goodly  site  and  strong 
Peschiera  stands,  to  awe  with  front  oppos'd 
The  Bergamese  and  Brescian,  whence  the  shore  70 

More  slope  each  way  descends.     There,  whatsoev'er 
Benacus'  bosom  holds  not,  tumbling  o'er 
Down  falls,  and  winds  a  river  flood  beneath 
Through  the  green  pastures.     Soon  as  in  his  course 
The  steam  makes  head,  Benacus  then  no  more  75 

They  call  the  name,  but  Mincius,  till  at  last 
Reaching  Governo  into  Po  he  falls. 
Not  far  his  course  hath  run,  when  a  wide  flat 


HELL.  69 

It  finds,  which  overstretching  as  a  marsli 

It  covers,  pestilent  in  suniiner  oft.  80 

Ilencc'  journeying,  tlie  savage  maiden  saw 

'Midst  of  tlie  fen  a  territory  waste 

And  naked  of  inliabitants.     To  shun 

All  human  converse,  here  she  with  lier  slaves 

Plying  her  arts  remain'd,  and  liv'd,  and  left  85 

Her  body  tenantless.     Thenceforth  the  ti'ihes. 

Who  round  were  scatter'd,  gatli'ring  to  tliat  ])lace 

Assembled  ;  for  its  strength  was  great,  enclos'd 

On  all  ])arts  l)y  the  fen.     On  those  dead  bones 

They  rear'd  themselves  a  city,  for  her  sake,  90 

Calling  it  Mantua,  who  first  chose  the  spot, 

Nor  ask'd  another  omen  for  the  name. 

Wherein  more  numerous  the  people  dwelt, 

Ere  Casalodi's  madness  by  deceit 

Was  wrong'd  of  Pinamonte.     If  thou  hear  95 

Henceforth  another  origin  assign'd 

Of  that  my  country,  I  forewarn  thee  now, 

That  falsehood  none  beguile  thee  of  the  truth." 

I  answer'd  :  "  Teacher,  I  conclude  thy  words 
So  certain,  that  all  else  shall  be  to  me  100 

As  embers  lacking  life.     But  no%v  of  these, 
Who  here  proceed,  instruct  me,  if  thou  see 
Any  that  merit  more  especial  note. 
For  thereon  is  my  mind  alone  intent."  104 

He  straight  replied:  "  That  spirit,  from  whose  cheek 
The  beard  sweeps  o'er  his  shoulders  brown,  what  time 
Gv;rcia  was  emptied  of  her  males,  that  scarce 
Tiie  cradles  were  su])plied,  the  seer  was  he 
In  Aulis,  who  with  Calchas  gave  the  sign 
When  first  to  cut  the  cable.     Him  they  nam'd  110 

Euryj)ilus  :  so  sings  my  tragic  strain. 
In  which  majestic  measure  well  thou  know'st, 
Who  know'st  it  all.     That  other,  round  the  loins 
So  slender  of  his  shape,  was  Michael  Scot, 
Practis'd  in  ev'ry  slight  of  magic  wile.  115 

"  Guido  Bonatti  see  :  Asdente  mark, 
Who  now  were  willing,  he  had  tended  still 
The  thread  and  cordwain  ;  and  too  late  repents. 


70  IIETJ., 

"  See  next  tlic  wretches,  who  tlie  neeclle  left, 
The  shuttle  and  the  spindle,  and  became  120 

Diviners  :  baneful  witcheries  they  wrought 
With  images  and  herbs.     ]>ut  onward  now  : 
For  now  doth  Cain  with  fork  of  thorns  confine 
On  either  heniisjihere,  touching  the  wave 
]5eneath  the  towers  of  Seville.     Yesternight  125 

The  moon  was  round.     Thou  mayst  remember  well  : 
For  she  good  service  did  thee  in  the  gloom 
Of  the  deep  wood."     This  said,  both  onward  mov'd. 


CANTO  XXI. 

Thus  we  from  bridge  to  bridge,  with  other  talk, 

The  which  my  drama  cares  not  to  rehearse, 

Pass'd  on;  and  to  the  summit  reaching,  stood 

To  view  another  gap,  within  the  round 

Of  Malcbolge,  other  bootless  pangs.  5 

Marvellous  darkness  shadow'd  o'er  the  place. 

In  the  Venetians'  arsenal  as  boils 
Through  wintry  months  tenacious  pitch,  to  smear 
Their  unsound  vessels  ;  for  th'  inclement  time 
Sea-faring  men  restrains,  and  in  that  while  10 

His  bark  one  builds  anew,  another  stops 
The  ribs  of  his,  that  hath  made  many  a  voyage  ; 
One  hammers  at  the  prow,  one  at  the  poop  ; 
This  shapeth  oars,  that  other  cables  twirls, 
The  mizen  one  repairs  and  main-sail  rent  15 

So  not  by  force  of  fire  but  art  divine 
Boil'd  here  a  glutinous  thick  mass,  that  round 
Lim'd  all  the  shore  beneath.     I  that  beheld. 
But  therein  nought  distinguish'd,  save  the  surge, 
Rais'd  by  the  boiling,  in  one  mighty  swell  20 

Heave,  and  by  turns  subsiding  and  fall.     While  there 
I  tix'd  my  ken  below,  "  Mark  !  mark !  "  my  guide 
Exclaiming,  drew  me  towards  him  from  the  jjlace, 
Wherein  I  stood.     I  turn'd  myself  as  one. 
Impatient  to  behold  that  whicla  beheld  25 

He  needs  must  shun,  whom  sudden  fear  unmans, 


HELL,  71 

That  lie  his  flight  delays  not  for  the  view. 
Behind  me  I  diseeni'd  a  devil  black, 
That  running  up  advanc'd  along  the  rock. 
'Ah!  what  fierce  cruelty  his  look  bespake  !  30 

In  act  how  bitter  did  he   seem,  with  wings 
Buoyant  outstretch'd  and  feet  of  nimblest  tread  ! 
His  shoulder  proudly  eminent  and  sharp 
Was  with  a  sinner  charg'd  ;  by  either  hannch 
He  held  him,  the  foot's  sinew  griping  fast.  35 

"  Ye  of  our  bridge  !  "  he  cried,  "  keen-talon'd  fiends  ! 
Lo  !  one  of  Santa  Zita's  elders  !     Ilim 
Whelm  ye  beneath,  while  I  retnrn  for  more. 
That  land  hath  store  of  such.     All  men  are  there, 
Except  Bonturo,  barterers  :  of 'no'  40 

For  lucre  there  an  '  aye '  is  quickly  made." 

Him  dashing  down,  o'er  the  rough  rock  he  turn'd, 
Nor  ever  after  thief  a  mastiff  loos'd 
Sped  with  like  eager  haste.     That  other  sank 
And  forthwith  writing  to  the  surface  rose.  45 

But  those  dark  demons,  shrouded  by  the  bridge, 
Cried  "  Here  the  hallow'd  visage  saves  not :  here 
Is  other  swimming  than  in  Serchio's  wave. 
Wherefore  if  thou  desire  we  rend  thee  not, 
Take  heed  thou  mount  not  o'er  the  pitch."     This  said, 
They  grapi»led  him  with  more  than  hundi'ed  hooks,      51 
And  shouted  :  "  Cover'd  thou  must  sport  thee  here ; 
So,  if  thou  canst,  in  secret  mayst  thou  filch." 
E'en  thus  the  cook  bestirs  him,  with  his  grooms, 
To  thrust  the  flesh  into  the  caldron  down  55 

With  flesh-hooks,  that  it  float  not  on  the  top. 

Me  then  my  guide  bespake  :  "  Lest  they  descry, 
That  thou  art  here,  behind  a  craggy  rock 
Bend  low  and  screen  thee ;  and  whate'er  of  force 
Be  offer'd  me,  or  insult,  fear  thou  not :  60 

For  I  am  well  advis'd,  who  have  been  erst 
In  the  like  fra}'."     Beyond  the  bridge's  head 
Therewith  he  jjass'd,  and  reaching  the  sixth  pier, 
Behov'd  him  then  a  forehead  terror-jDroof. 

With  storm  and  fury,  as  when  dogs  rush  forth  65 

Upon  the  poor  man's  back,  who  suddenly 


72  HELL. 

From  Avlionco  lie  standctli  iiiiikcs  liis  suit ;  so  riishVl 

Those  from  l)eTiontli  tlie  arcli,  and  npiiiist  liim 

Their  weapons  all  tliey  ])ointod.     He  aloud  : 

"Be  none  of  you  ouli-a<;eous  :  ere  your  time  70 

Dare  seize  me,  come  forth  from  amongst  you  one, 

Who  liaving  lieard  my  words,  decide  he  then 

If  he  shall  tear  these  limbs."     They  shouted  loud, 

"  Go,  MaLacoda  !  "     Whereat  one  advanc'd. 

The  others  standing  firm,  and  as  lie  came,  75 

"  AYhat  may  this  turn  avail  him  ?"  ho  exclaim'd. 

"Believ'st  thou,  Malaeoda!  I  had  come 
Thus  far  from  all  your  skirmishing  secure," 
My  teacher  answered,  "  without  Avill  divine 
And  destiny  ]iro]iitious?     Pass  we  then  80 

For  so  Heaven's  ]»leasure  is,  that  I  should  lead 
Another  through  this  savage  wilderness." 

Forthwith  so  fell  liis  ])ride,  that  he  let  drop 
The  instrument  of  torture  at  his  feet. 
And  to  the  rest  exclaim'd  :  "  We  have  no  power  85 

To  strike  him."     Then  to  mc  my  guide  :  "  O  thou  ! 
Who  on  the  bridge  among  the  crags  dost  sit 
Low  crouching,  safely  noAv  to  me  return." 

I  rose,  and  towards  him  moved  Avith  speed  :  the  fiends 
Meantime  all  forward  drew  :  me  terror  seiz'd  90 

Lest  they  should  break  the  compact  they  had  made. 
Thus  issuing  from  C'aprona,  once  I  saw 
Th'  infantry  dreading,  lest  his  covenant 
The  foe  should  break  ;  so  close  he  henim'd  them  round. 

I  to  my  leader's  side  adher'd,  mine  eyes  95 

With  fixt  and  niotionless  observance  bent 
On  their  imkindly  visage.     They  their  hooks 
Protruding,  one  the  other  thus  bespake : 
"  Wilt  thou  I  touch  him  on  the  hip  ?  "     To  whom 
Was  answer'd  :  "  Even  so  ;  nor  miss  thy  aim."  100 

But  he,  who  Avas  in  conf'rence  with  my  guide, 
Turn'd  rapid  round,  and  thus  the  demon  spake  : 
"  Stay,  stay  thee,  Scarmiglione  !  "     Then  to  us 
He  added  :  "  Further  footing  to  your  step 
This  rock  affords  not,  shiver'd  to  the  base  105 

Of  the  sixth  arch.     But  would  you  still  proceed, 


HELL.  73 

Up  by  tliis  cavern  go  :  not  distant  far, 

Another  rock  will  yield  you  passage  safe. 

Yesterday,  later  by  five  hours  than  now, 

Twelve  hundred  threescore  years  and  six  l>ad  fill'd      110 

The  circuit  of  their  course,  since  here  the  way 

Was  broken.     Thitherward  I  straight  dispatch 

Certain  of  these  my  scouts,  Avho  shall  espy 

If  any  on  the  surface  bask.     With  them 

Go  ye  :  for  ye  shall  find  them  nothing  fell.  115 

Come  Alichino  forth,"  witli  that  he  cried,  j 

"  And  Calcabrina,  and  Cagnazzo  thou  !  | 

The  troop  of  ten  let  Barbariccia  lead.  | 

With  Libicocco  Di-aghinazzo  haste,  ■ 

Fang'd  Ciriatto,  Grattiacane  fierce,  120     j 

And  Farfarello,  and  mad  Rubicant. 

Search  ye  around  the  bubbling  tar.     For  these,  1 

In  safety  lead  them,  where  the  other  crag  i 

Uninterrupted  traverses  the  dens."  ; 

I  then  :  "  O  master !  what  a  sight  is  there  !  125     \ 

Ah  !  without  escort,  journey  we  alone. 
Which,  if  thou  know  the  way,  I  covet  not. 
Unless  thy  prudence  fail  thee,  dost  not  mark 
How  they  do  gnarl  ui)on  us,  and  their  scowl 
Threatens  us  present  tortures  ?  "     He  replied  :  130 

"  I  charge  tliee  fear  not :  let  them,  as  they  will, 
Gnarl  on  :  't  is  but  in  token  of  their  spite 
Against  the  souls,  who  mourn  in  torment  steep'd." 

To  leftward  o'er  the  pier  they  turn'd  ;  but  each 
Had  fii'st  between  his  teeth  prest  close  the  tongue,       135 
Toward  their  leader  for  a  signal  looking, 
Wliich  he  with  sound  obscene  trhmiphant  gave. 


CANTO  XXII. 

It  hath  been  heretofore  my  chance  to  see 
Horsemen  with  martial  order  shifting  camp, 
To  onset  sallying,  or  in  muster  rang'd. 
Or  in  retreat  sometimes  outstretch'd  for  fiight 
Light-armed  scjuadrons  and  lleet  foragers 


74  IIRI,L, 

Scoiirino;  tliy  jiluins,  Arezzo  !  liavo  I  soon, 

And  clasliing  tounianionts,  and  lilting  jousts, 

Now  with  the  sound  of  trumpets,  now  of  bells, 

Tabors,  or  signals  made  fi-om  castled  heights, 

And  M'itli  inventions  multifoi'm,  our  own,  10 

Or  introduc'd  from  foreign  land  ;  but  ne'er 

To  such  a  strange  rccoi'der  I  beheld, 

In  evolution  moving,  horse  nor  foot, 

Nor  shi]),  that  tack'd  by  sign  from  land  or  star. 

With  the  ten  demons  on  our  way  we  went ;  15 

Ah  fearful  company!  but  in  the  church 
With  saints,  with  gluttons  at  the  tavern's  mess. 

Still  earnest  on  the  pitch  I  gaz'd,  to  mark 
All  things  whate'er  the  chasm  contain'd,  and  those 
Who  bnrn'd  within.     As  dolphins,  that,  in  sign  20 

To  mariners,  heave  high  their  arched  backs. 
That  thence  forewarn'd  they  may  advise  to  save 
Their  threaten'd  vessel ;  so,  at  intervals. 
To  ease  the  pain  his  back  some  sinner  show'd. 
Then  hid  more  nimbly  than  the  lightning  glance.  25 

E'en  as  the  frogs,  that  of  a  wat'ry  moat 
Stand  at  the  brink,  with  the  jaws  only  out, 
Their  feet  and  of  the  trunk  all  else  concealed, 
Thus  on  each  part  the  sinners  stood,  but  soon 
As  Barbariccia  was  at  hand,  so  they  30 

Drew  back  under  the  wave.     I  saw,  and  yet 
My  heart  doth  stagger,  one,  that  waited  thus, 
As  it  befalls  that  oft  one  frog  remains. 
While  the  next  springs  away :  and  Graffiacan, 
Who  of  the  fiends  was  nearest,  grappling  seiz'd  35 

His  clotted  locks,  and  dragg'd  him  sprawling  ujx 
That  he  appear'd  to  me  an  otter.     Each 
Already  by  their  names  I  knew,  so  well 
When  they  were  chosen,  I  observ'd,  and  mark'd 
How  one  the  other  call'd.     "ORubicant!  40 

See  that  his  hide  thou  with  thy  talons  flay," 
Shouted  together  all  the  cursed  crew. 

Then  I :  "  Inform  thee,  master !  if  thou  may. 
What  wretched  soul  is  this,  on  whom  their  hands 
His  foes  have  laid."     My  leader  to  his  side  45 


Appronoli'd,  nnrl  whence  lie  cnnic  inquirVl,  to  whom 

Was  answer'd  tiius  :  "Born  in  Navarre's  domain 

My  motlier  plac'd  me  in  a  lord's  retinue, 

For  she  had  borne  me  to  a  losel  vile, 

A  spendthrift  of  his  substance  and  himself.  f)0 

The  good  king-  Thibault  after  that  I  serv'd. 

To  peculating  here  my  thoughts  were  turn'd. 

Whereof  I  give  account  in  tliis  dire  heat." 

Straight  Ciriatto.  from  whose  mouth  a  tusk 
Issued  on  either  side,  as  from  a  boar,  55 

Kipt  him  with  one  of  these.     'Twixt  evil  claws 
The  mouse  had  fall'n  :  but  Barbariccia  cried, 
Seizing  him  with  both  arms  :  "  Stand  thou  apart, 
While  I  do  fix  him  on  my  prong  trans])ierc'd." 
Then  added,  turning  to  my  guide  his  face,  60 

"Inquire  of  him,  if  more  thou  wish  to  learn, 
Ere  he  again  be  rent."     My  leader  thus  : 
"  Then  tell  us  of  the  partners  in  thy  guilt ; 
Knowest  thou  any  sprung  of  Latian  land 
Under  the  tar  ?  "— "  I  pa'rted,"  he  replied,  65 

"But  now  from  one,  who  sojourn'd  not  far  thence; 
So  were  I  under  shelter  now  Avith  him  ! 
Nor  hook  nor  talon  then  should  scare  me  more." — 

"  Too  long  we  suffer,"  Libicocco  cried, 
Then,  darting  forth  a  prong,  seiz'd  on  his  arm,  70 

And  mangled  bore  away  the  sinewy  part. 
Ilim  Draghinazzo  by  his  thighs  beneath 
Would  next  have  caught,  whence  angrily  their  chief. 
Turning  on  all  sides  round,  with  threat'ning  brow 
Restrain'd  them.     When  their  strife  a  little  ceas'd,        75 
Of  him,  who  yet  was  gazing  on  his  wound, 
My  teacher  thus  without  delay  inquir'd  : 
"Who  was  the  spirit,  from  whom  by  evil  hap 
Parting,  as  thou  has  told,  thou  cam'st  to  shore?" — 

"  It  was  the  friar  Gomita,"  he  rejoin'd,  80 

"  He  of  Gallura,  vessel  of  all  guile. 
Who  had  his  master's  enemies  in  hand. 
And  us'd  them  so  that  they  commend  liim  well. 
Money  he  took,  and  them  at  large  dismiss'd. 
So  he  reports :  and  in  each  other  charge  85 


76  IIEI.L. 

Committed  to  liis  kcejiinc;,  pl.iyM  tlic  part 

Of  barterer  to  the  heiglit :  with  liiiu  cldtli  liord 

The  chief  of  Logodoro,  Miclicl  Zaiiclic. 

Sardinia  is  a  theme,  whereof  their  tongue 

Is  never  weary.     Out !  abis  !  l)ehold  90 

That  other,  how  lie  grins  !     More  would  I  say, 

But  tremble  lest  he  mean  to  maul  me  sore." 

Their  cai)tain  then  to  Farfarello  turning, 
Who  roU'd  his  moony  eyes  in  act  to  strike, 
Rebuk'd  him  thus  :  »  Oi'f  !  cursed  bird  !  avaunt !  "—     95 

"If  ye  desire  to  see  or  hear,"  he  thus 
Quaking  with  dread  resum'd,  "  or  Tuscan  spirits 
Or  Lombard,  I  will  cause  them  to  appear. 
Meantime  let  these  ill  talons  bate  their  fury, 
So  that  no  vengeance  they  may  fear  from  them,  100 

And  I,  remaining  in  this  self-same  place, 
Will  for  myself  but  one,  make  sev'n  appear, 
When  my  shrill  whistle  shall  be  heard ;  for  so 
Our  custom  is  to  call  each  other  up." 

Cagnazzo  at  that  word  deriding  grinn'd,  105 

Then  wagg'd  the  head  and  spake  :  "  Hear  his  device, 
Mischievous  as  he  is,  to  plunge  him  down." 

Whereto  he  thus,  who  fail'd  not  in  rich  store 
Of  nice-wove  toils  ;  "  Mischief  forsooth  extreme, 
Meant  only  to  ])rocure  myself  more  woe  !  "  110 

No  longer  Alichino  then  refrain'd. 
But  thus,  the  rest  gainsaying,  him  bespake  : 
*'  If  thou  do  cast  thee  dow^n,  I  not  on  foot 
Will  chase  thee,  but  above  the  pitch  will  beat 
My  plumes.     Quit  we  the  vantage  ground,  and  let       115 
The  bank  be  as  a  shield,  that  we  may  see 
If  singly  thou  prevail  against  us  all." 

Now,  reader,  of  new  s])ort  expect  to  hear ! 

They  each  one  turn'd  liis  eyes  to  tlie'  other  shore, 
He  first,  who  was  the  hardest  to  persuade.  120 

The  spirit  of  Navarre  chose  well  his  time, 
Planted  his  feet  on  land,  and  at  one  leap 
Escaping  disappointed  their  resolve. 

Them  quick  resentment  stung,  but  him  the  most, 
Who  was  the  cause  of  failure  ;  in  pursuit  125 


HELL.  77 

He  tlierefore  sped,  exclaiming;  "  Tliou  art  cauglit." 

But  little  it  avatlVl :  terror  outstrippM 
His  following  flight:  the  other  ])lung\l  beneath, 
And  he 'with  upward  pinion  rais'd  his  breast : 
E'en  thus  the  water-fowl,  when  she  ])erceives  130 

The  falcon  near,  dives  instant  down,  while  he 
Enrag'd  and  spent  retires.     That  nicjckery 
In  Calcabrina  fury  stirr'd,  who  flew 
After  him,  with  desire  of  strife  inflam'd  ; 
And,  for  the  barterer  had  'scap'd,  so  turn'd  135 

His  talons  on  his  comrade.     O'er  the  dyke 
In  grapple  close  they  join'd  ;  but  the'  other  prov'd  s 

A  goshawk  able  to  rend  well'liis  foe;  '. 

And  in  the  boiling  lake  both  fell.     The  heat  ? 

Was  um|)ire  soon  between  them,  but  in  vain  140 

To  lift  themselves  tliey  strove,  so  fast  were  glued 
Their  pennons.     Barbariccia,  as  the  rest, 
That  chance  lamenting,  four  in  flight  disjiatch'd 
From  the'  other  coast,  with  all  their  weapons  ai'm'd. 
They,  to  their  post  on  each  side  s])eedily  1-45 

Descending,  stretch'd  their  hooks  toward  the  fiends, 
Who  flounder'd,  inly  burning  from  their  scars  : 
And  we  departing  left  them  to  that  broil. 


CANTO  XXIII. 

In  silence  and  in  solitude  Ave  went. 
One  first,  the  other  following  his  steps. 
As  minor  friars  journeying  on  tlieir  road. 

The  present  fray  had  turn'd  my  thoughts  to  muse 
Upon  old  ^Esop's  fable,  where  he  told  5 

What  fate  unto  the  mouse  and  frog  befell. 
For  language  hath  not  sounds  more  like  in  sense, 
Than  are  these  chances,  if  the  origin 
And  end  of  each  be  heedfully  com])ar'd. 
And  as  one  thought  bursts  from  another  forth,  10 

So  afterward  from  that  another  sprang. 
Which  added  doubly  to  my  former  fear. 
For  thus  I  reason'd  :  "  These  throuu'h  us  have  been 


78  HKLL. 

So  foil'd,  with  loss  ;m(l  Jiiock'ry  so  complete, 

As  needs  iiitist  stini^  llieiu  sore.     If  aii^vr  then  15 

]>e  to  their  evil  will  eoiijuiiiM,  more  fell 

They  shall  ])iirsue  us,  than  the  savau;e  hound 

Snatehes  the  leveret,  ])antinL!;  'twixt  liis  jaws." 

Already  I  ])erceiv'd  my  hair  stand  all 
On  end  with  terror,  and  look'd  eager  hack.  20 

" 'J'eacher,"  I  thus  began,  "  if  sjieedily 
Tliyself  and  me  thou  hide  not,  much  I  dread 
Those  evil  talons.     Even  now  hehind 
They  urge  us  :  quick  imagination  works 
So  forcibly,  that  I  already  feel  them."  25 

He  answer'd  :  "  Were  I  form'd  of  leaded  glass, 
I  should  not  sooner  draw  unto  myself 
Thy  outward  image,  than  I  now  imprint 
That  from  M'ithin.     This  moment  came  thy  thoughts 
Presented  before  mine,  with  similar  act  30 

And  count'nance  similar,  so  that  from  both 
I  one  design  have  fram'd.     If  the  right  coast 
Incline  so  much,  that  we  may  thence  descend 
Into  the  other  chasm,  we  shall  escape 
Secure  from  this  imagined  pursuit."  35 

He  had  not  spoke  his  purjiose  to  the  end, 
When  I  from  far  beheld  them  with  spread  wings 
Approach  to  take  us.     Suddenly  my  guide 
Caught  me,  ev'n  as  a  mother  that  from  sleep 
Is  by  the  noise  arous'd,  and  near  her  sees  40 

The  climbing  fires,  who  snatches  up  her  babe 
And  flies  ne'er  pausing,  careful  more  of  him 
Than  of  herself,  that  but  a  single  vest 
Clings  round  her  limbs.     Down  from  the  jutting  beach 
Supine  he  cast  him,  to  tliat  pendent  rock,  45 

Which  closes  on  one  part  the  other  chasm. 

Never  ran  water  with  such  hurrying  ])ace 
Adown  the  tube  to  turn  a  land-miirs  wheel. 
When  nearest  it  ap}>roaches  to  the  spokes, 
As  then  along  that  edge  my  master  ran,  50 

Carrying  me  in  his  bosom,  as  a  child, 
Not  a  companion.     Scarcely  had  his  feet 
Reach'd  to  the  lowest  of  the  bed  beneath, 


HELL.  79 

Wlion  over  us  the  steep  they  renchM  ;  but  fear 

In  him  Avas  none ;  for  tliat  hi<j;li  Providence,  55 

Which  ])hic'd  tliem  ministers  of  tlie  fiftli  foss, 

Power  of  departing-  tlience  took  from  them  all. 

There  in  tlie  depth  we  saw  a  painted  trii)e, 
Who  pac'd  with  tardy  ste])S  around,  and  wept, 
Faint  in  appearance  and  o'ercome  witli  toil.  60 

Caps  had  they  on,  with  hoods,  that  fell  low  down 
Before  their  eyes,  in  fashion  like  to  those 
Worn  by  the  monks  in  Cologne.     Their  outside 
Was  overlaid  with  gold,  dazzling  to  view. 
But  leaden  all  within,  and  of  such  weight,  65 

That  Frederick's  compar'd  to  these  were  straw. 
Oh,  everlasting  wearisome  attire  ! 

We  yet  once  more  with  them  together  turn'd 
To  leftward,  on  their  dismal  moan  intent. 
But  by  the  weight  oj>]»ress'd,  so  slowly  came  70 

The  fainting  people,  that  our  company 
Was  chang'd  at  every  movement  of  the  step. 

Whence  I  my  guide  address'd :  "  See  that  thou  find 
Some  spirit,  whose  name  may  by  his  deeds  be  known. 
And  to  that  end  look  round  thee  as  thou  go'st."  75 

Then  one,  wiio  understood  the  Tuscan  voice, 
Cried  after  us  aloud  :  "  Hold  in  your  feet, 
Ye  who  so  swiftly  speed  through  the  dusk  air. 
Perchance  from  me  thou  shalt  obtain  thy  wish." 

Whereat  my  leader,  turning,  me  bespake  :  80 

"  Pause,  and  then  onward  at  their  pace  proceed." 

I  staid,  and  saw  two  s])irits  in  whose  look 
Impatient  eagerness  of  mind  was  mark'd 
To  overtake  me  ;  but  the  load  they  bare 
And  narrow  path  retarded  their  a])proach.  85 

Soon  as  arriv'd,  they  with  an  eye  askance 
Perus'd  me,  but  spake  not:  then  turning  each 
To  other  thus  conferring  said :  "  This  one 
Seems,  by  the  action  of  his  throat,  alive. 
And,  be  they  dead,  wliat  privilege  allows  90 

They  walk  unmantled  by  the  cumbrous  stole  ?  " 

Then  thus  to  mo  :  "  Tuscan,  Avho  visitest 
The  college  of  the  mourning  hypocrites, 


80  II  KM.. 

Disdnin  not  1o  instruct  us  who  tliou  art." 

"By  Anio's  pleasant  stre.aiii,"   I  thus  i-cplicfl,  Oft 

"  In  tlie  great  city  I  was  bred  aiul  grew, 
And  wear  the  body  1  have  ever  worn. 
But  who  are  ye,  from  wliom  sucli  mighty  grief, 
As  now  I  witness,  coursetli  down  your  cheeks? 
What  torment  breaks  foitli  in  tliis  bitter  woe?"  100 

"Our  bonnets  gleaming  briglit  with  orange  hue," 
One  of  tliem  answer'd,  "are  so  leatlen  gi-oss, 
That  witli  tlieir  weight  they  make  the  balances 
To  crack  beneath  them.     Joyous  friars  we  were, 
Bologna's  natives,  Catalano  I,  105 

He  Loderingo  nam'd,  and  by  thy  land 
Together  taken,  as  men  used  to  take 
A  single  and  indifferent  arbiter. 
To  reconcile  their  strifes.     IIow  there  we  sped, 
Gardingo's  vicinage  can  best  declare."  110 

"  O  friars  !  "  I  began,  "  your  miseries — " 
But  there  brake  off,  for  one  had  caught  my  eye, 
Fix'd  to  a  cross  with  three  stakes  on  the  ground : 
He,  when  he  saw  me,  Avrith'd  himself,  throughout 
Distorted,  rufHing  with  deep  sighs  his  beard.  115 

And  Catalano,  wlio  thereof  was  'ware. 
Thus  spake  :  "  That  ])ierced  sj^irit,  whom  intent 
Thou  view'st,  was  he  who  gave  the  Pharisees 
Counsel,  that  it  were  fitting  for  one  man 
To  suffer  for  the  peo})le.     He  doth  lie  120 

Transverse  ;  nor  any  passes,  but  him  first 
Behoves  make  feeling  trial  how  each  weighs. 
In  straits  like  this  along  the  foss  are  plac'd 
The  father  of  his  consort,  and  the  rest 
Partakers  in  that  council,  seed  of  ill  125 

And  sorrow  to  the  Jews."     1  noted  then. 
How  Virgil  gaz'd  with  wonder  upon  him. 
Thus  abjectly  extended  on  the  cross 
In  banishment  eternal.     To  tlie  friar 
Pie  next  his  words  address'd  :  "  We  pray  ye  tell,  ISO 

If  so  be  lawful,  whether  on  our  right 
Lies  any  opening  in  the  rock,  Avliereby 
We  both  may  issue  hence,  without  constraint 


HELL.  81 

Oil  tlic  dark  aiigvls,  tlial  conipcll'd  tliey  come 

To  load  us  from  tliis  de|»tli."     He  tlius  rcidied  :  135 

"Nearer  than  tlioii  dost  lioi)e,  tliere  is  a  rock 

From  the  next  circle  movina',  whicli  o'erstej)s> 

Each  vale  of  horror,  save  that  here  his  co})C 

Is  sliatter'd.     By  tlie  ruiu  ye  may  mount : 

For  on  the  side  it  slants,  and  most  the  height  14C 

Iiises  below."     With  head  bent  down  awliile 

My  leader  stood,  then  s])ake  :  "  He  warn'd  us  ill, 

Who  yonder  hangs  the  sinners  on  his  hook," 

To  whom  the  friar :  At  Bologna  erst 
I  many  vices  of  the  devil  heard,  145 

Among  tlie  rest  was  said,  '  He  is  a  liai*. 
And  the  father  of  lies  ! '  "  When  he  had  spoke, 
My  leader  with  large  strides  ])roceeded  on, 
Somewhat  disturb'd  with  anger  in  liis  look. 

I  therefore  left  the  s])irits  heavy  laden,  150 

And  following,  his  beloved  footste]»s  mark'd. 


CANTO  XXIV. 

In"  the  year's  early  nonage,  ^\■hen  the  sun 

Tempers  his  tresses  in  Aquarius'  urn, 

And  now  towards  equal  day  the  nights  recede, 

When  as  tlie  rime  u])on  the  earth  jnits  on 

Her  dazzling  sister's  image,  but  not  long  5 

Her  milder  sway  endures,  then  risetli  up 

The  village  hind,  whom  fails  his  wintry  store, 

And  looking  out  beholds  the  plain  around 

All  whiten'd,  whence  impatiently  he  smites 

His  thighs,  and  to  his  hut  returning  in,  10 

There  paces  to  and  fro,  wailing  his  lot, 

As  a  discomfited  and  heljiless  man  ; 

Then  comes  he  forth  again,  and  feels  new  hojDe 

Spring  in  his  bosom,  finding  e'en  thus  soon 

The  world  hath  chang'd  its  count'nance,  grasps  his  crook, 

And  forth  to  ])asture  dl•i^•es  his  little  flock  :  Ifc 

So  me  my  guide  dishearten'd  when  I  saw 

His  troubled  forehead,  and  so  speedily 

I    I     II       -  ■.  :■■— ^-- ---v-^ I     I,  mil  nr  I  "T-i 'I  ,.-,,.-. 


82  HELL. 

That  ill  was  ciirM  ;  for  at  the  fallen  hridge 

Arriviiiti:,  towards  ine  with  a  look  as  sweet,  20 

lie  turiiM  him  back,  as  that  I  first  beheld 

At  the  steep  mountain's  foot.     Kegardinii;  well 

The  ruin,  and  some  counsel  first  maintain'd 

With  his  own  thought,  heopen'd  wide  his  arm 

And  took  me  up.     As  one,  who,  Avhile  he  works,  25 

Computes  his  labour's  issue,  that  he  seems 

Still  to  foresee  the'  effect,  so  lifting  me 

Up  to  the  summit  of  one  peak,  he  fix'd 

His  eye  upon  another.     "  Graj^ple  that," 

Said  he,  "  but  first  make  proof,  if  it  be  such  30 

As  will  sustain  thee."     For  one  capp'd  with  lead 

This  Avere  no  journey.     Scarcely  he,  though  light, 

And  I,  though  onwar<l  push'd  from  crag  to  crag. 

Could  mount.     And  if  the  precinct  of  this  coast 

Were  not  less  am})le  than  the  last,  for  him  35 

I  know  not,  but  my  strength  had  surely  fail'd. 

But  Malebolge  all  toward  the  mouth 

Inclining  of  the  nethermost  abyss, 

The  site  of  every  valley  hence  requires. 

That  one  side  upward  slope,  the  other  fall.  40 

At  length  the  point  of  our  descent  we  reach'd 
From  the  last  flag:  soon  as  to  that  arriv'd. 
So  was  the  breath  exhausted  from  my  lungs, 
I  could  no  further,  but  did  seat  me  there. 

"  Now  needs  thy  best  of  man  ;  "  so  spake  my  guide :  45 
"For  not  on  downy  plumes,  nor  nnder  shade 
Of  canopy  re])osing,  fame  is  won. 
Without  which  whosoe'er  consumes  his  days 
Leaveth  such  vestige  of  himself  on  earth. 
As  smoke  in  air  or  foam  upon  the  wave.  50 

Thou  therefore  rise  :  vanish  thy  Aveariness 
By  the  mind's  effort,  in  each  struggle  forin'd 
^To  vanquish,  if  she  suffer  not  the  weight 
Of  her  corporeal  frame  to  crush  her  down. 
A  longer  ladder  yet  remains  to  scale.  55 

PVom  these  to  have  escap'd  sufficeth  not. 
If  well  thou  note  mo,  profit  by  my  words." 

I  straightway  rose,  and  show'd  myself  less  spent 


HELL.  83 

Than  I  in  truth  did  feel  me.     "  On,"  I  cried, 

"  For  I  am  stout  and  fearless."     Up  the  rock  GO 

Our  way  we  lield,  more  rugged  than  before, 

Narrower  and  steeper  far  to  climb.     From  talk 

I  ceas'd  not,  as  we  journey'd,  so  to  seem 

Least  faint ;  Avhereat  a  voice  from  the  other  foss 

Did  issue  forth,  for  ntt'rance  suited  ill.  65 

Though  on  the  arch  tliat  crosses  there  I  stood, 

What  were  the  words  I  knew  not,  but  who  spake 

Seem'd  mov'd  in  anger.     Down  I  stoo])'d  to  look, 

But  my  quick  eye  might  reach  not  to  the  depth 

For  shrouding  darkness;  wherefore  thus  I  spake:  70 

"  To  the  next  circle,  Teacher,  bend  thy  steps. 

And  from  the  wall  dismount  we  ;  for  as  hence 

I  hear  and  understand  not,  so  I  see 

Beneath,  and  naught  discern." — "I  answer  not," 

Said  he,  "  but  by  tlie  deed.     To  fair  request  75 

Silent  performance  maketh  best  return." 

We  from  the  bridge's  head  descended,  where 
To  the  eighth  mound  it  joins,  and  then  the  chasm 
Opening  to  A'iew,  I  saw  a  crowd  within 
Of  ser])ents  terrible,  so  strange  of  shape  yO 

And  liideous,  that  remembrance  in  my  veins 
Yet  shrinks  the  vital  current.     Of  her  sands 
Let  Lybia  vaunt  no  more  :  if  Jaculus, 
Pareas  and  Chelyder  be  her  brood, 

Cenchris  and  Amphisba?na,  plagues  so  dire  85 

Or  in  such  numbers  swarming  ne'er  she  shew'd, 
Not  Avith  all  Ethiopia,  and  whate'er 
Above  the  Erythrrean  sea  is  spawn'd. 

Amid  this  dread  exuberance  of  woe 
Ran  naked  spirits  Aving'd  Avith  horrid  fear,  90 

Nor  hope  had  they  of  crevice  Avhere  to  hide, 
Or  heliotrope  to  charm  them  out  of  view. 
With  serpents  were  their  hands  behind  thera  bound, 
Which  through  their  reins  infix'd  the  tail  and  head 
Twisted  in  folds  before.     And  lo  !  on  one  95 

Near  to  our  side,  darted  an  adder  up. 
And,  Avhere  the  neck  is  on  the  shoulders  tied, 
Transpierc'd  liim.     Far  more  quickly  tlian  e'er  pen 


84  IIKLL. 

Wrote  O  or  I,  he  kindled,  buni'd,  and  chang'd 

To  aslies,  all  ])()ur'<l  out  upon  the  eailli.  100 

When  tliere  dissolv'd  he  lay,  the  dust  again 

Uproll'd  spontaneous,  and  the  self-.sanie  form 

Instant  resumed.     So  mighty  sages  tell, 

The'  Arabian  Pliamix,  wlien  five  hundred  years 

Have  well  nigh  circled,  dies,  and  springs  forthwith       105 

Kenascent.     Blade  nor  lierb  throughout  his  life 

He  tastes,  but  tears  of  frankincense  alone 

And  odorous  amomum  :  swaths  of  nard 

And  myrrh  his  funeral  shroud.     As  one  that  falls, 

He  knows  not  how,  by  force  demoniac  dragg'd  110 

To  earth,  or  through  obstruction  fettering  up 

In  chains  invisible  the  powers  of  man, 

Who,  risen  from  his  trance,  gazeth  around, 

Bewilder'd  with  the  monstrous  agony 

He  hath  endur'd,  and  wildly  staring  sighs  ;  115 

So  stood  aghast  the  sinner  when  he  rose. 

Oh!  how  severe  God's  judgment,  that  deals  out 
Such  blows  in  stormy  vengeance  !     Who  he  was 
My  teacher  next  inquir'd,  and  thus  in  few 
He  answer'd  :  "  Vanni  Fucci  am  I  call'd,  120 

Not  long  since  rained  down  from  Tuscany 
To  this  dire  gullet.     Me  the  beastial  life 
And  not  the  human  pleas'd,  mule  that  I  was, 
Who  in  Pistoia  found  my  worthy  den." 

I  then  to  Virgil :  "  Bid  him  stir  not  hence,  125 

And  ask  what  crime  did  thrust  him  hither :  once 
A  man  I  knew  him  choleric  and  bloody." 

The  sinner  heard  and  feign'd  not,  but  towards  me 
His  mind  directing  and  his  face,  wherein 
Was  dismal  shame  depictur'd,  thus  he  spake :  130 

"  It  grieves  me  more  to  have  been  caught  by  thee 
In  this  sad  plight,  which  thou  beholdest,  than 
When  I  was  taken  from  the  other  life. 
I  have  no  power  permitted  to  deny 

What  thou  inquirest.     I  am  doom'd.  thus  low  135 

To  dwell,  for  that  the  sacristy  by  me 
Was  rifled  of  its  goodly  ornaments. 
And  with  the  guilt  another  falsely  charged. 


HELL. 


85 


Bat  that  tliou  may'st  not  joy  to  see  me  thus, 

So  as  thou  e'er  shalt  'scape  this  darksome  realm  140 

Open  thine  ears  and  hear  what  I  forebode. 

Reft  of  the  Neri  first  Pistoia  pines, 

Then  Florence  changeth  citizens  and  laws. 

From  Valdimagra,  drawn  by  wrathful  Mars, 

A  vapour  rises,  w]'aj)t  in  turbid  mists,  145 

And  sliarp  and  eager  driveth  on  the  storm 

With  arrowy  hurtling  o'er  Piceno's  field, 

Whence  suddenly  the  cloud  shall  burst,  and  strike 

Each  helpless  Bianco  prostrate  to  the  ground. 

This  have  I  told,  that  grief  may  rend  thy  heart."          150 


CANTO  XXV. 

Whei^  he  had  spoke,  the  sinner  rais'd  his  hands 

Pointed  in  mockery,  and  cried  :  "  Take  them,  God ! 

I  level  them  at  thee  !  "     From  that  day  forth 

The  serpents  were  my  friends ;  for  round  his  neck 

One  of  tlien  rolling  twisted,  as  it  said,  5 

"  Be  silent,  tongue  !  "     Another  to  his  arms 

TJpgliding,  tied  tliem,  riveting  itself 

So  close,  it  took  from  them  the  power  to  move. 

Pistoia  !  ah  Pistoia !  why  dost  dovibt 
To  turn  thee  into  ashes,  curab'ring  earth  10 

No  longer,  since  in  evil  act  so  far 
Thou  hast  outdone  thy  seed  ?     I  did  not  mark, 
Tlirough  all  the  gloomy  circles  of  the'  abyss, 
Spirit,  that  swell'd  so  proudly  'gainst  his  God, 
Not  him,  who  headlong  fell  from  Thebes.     He  fled,        15 
Nor  utter'd  more  ;  and  after  liim  there  came 
A  centaur  full  of  fury,  shouting,  "  Where 
Where  is  the  caitiff?"     On  Maremma's  marsh 
Swarm  not  the  serpent  tribe,  as  on  his  haunch 
They  swarm'd,  to  where  the  human  face  begins.  20 

Behind  his  head  upon  the  shoulders  lay. 
With  open  wings,  a  dragon  breathing  fire 
On  whomsoe'er  he  met.     To  me  my  guide : 
"  Cacus  is  this,  who  underneath  the  rock 


86  HKI.L. 

Of  Aventine  spre-id  oft  a,  lake  of  blood.  25 

He,  from  his  brethren  parted,  here  must  tread 
A  different  journey,  for  his  fraudful  tlieft 
Of  the  great  herd,  tJiat  near  liim  stall'd;  whence  found 
Ilis  felon  deeds  their  end,  beneatli  the  mace 
Of  stout  Alcides,  that  ])erchance  laid  on  .  30 

A  hundred  blows,  and  not  the  tenth  was  felt." 
While  yet  he  spake,  the  centaur  sped  away: 
And  under  us  three  spirits  came,  of  whom 
Nor  I  nor  he  was  ware,  till  they  exclaim'd  ; 
"  Say  who  are  ye?"     We  then  brake  off  discourse,        35 
Intent  on  these  alone.     I  knew  them  not ; 
But,  as  it  chanceth  oft,  befell,  that  one 
Had  need  to  name  another.     "  Where,"  said  he, 
"  Doth  Cianfa  lurk  ?  "     I,  for  a  sign  my  guide 
Should  stand  attentive,  plac'd  against  my  lips  40 

The  finger  lifted.     If,  O  reader  !  now 
Thou  be  not  apt  to  credit  what  I  tell, 
No  marvel ;  for  myself  do  scarce  allow 
The  witness  of  mine  eyes.     But  as  I  looked 
Toward  them,  lo  !  a  serpent  with  six  feet  45 

Springs  forth  on  one,  and  fastens  full  upon  him  : 
His  midmost  grasp'd  the  belly,  a  forefoot 
Seiz'd  on  each  arm  (while  deep  in  either  cheek 
He  flesh'd  his  fangs)  ;  the  hinder  on  the  thighs 
Were  spread,  'twixt  which  the  tail  inserted  curl'd  50 

Upon  the  reins  behind.     Ivy  ne'er  clasp'd 
A  dodder'd  oak,  as  round  the  other's  limbs 
The  liideous  monster  intertwin'd  his  own. 
Then,  as  they  both  had  been  of  burning  wax, 
Each  melted  into  other,  mingling  hues,  55 

That  which  was  either  now  was  seen  no  more. 
Thus  up  the  shrinking  paper,  ere  it  burns, 
A  brown  tint  glides,  not  turning  yet  to  black, 
And  the  clean  white  expires.     The  other  two 
Look'd  on  exclaiming:  "Ah,  how  dost  thou  change,      60 
Agnello  !     See!  Thou  art  nor  double  now, 
Nor  only  one."     The  two  heads  now  became 
One,  and  two  figures  blended  in  one  form 
Appear'd,  where  both  were  lost.     Of  the  four  lengths 


Two  arms  were  made  :  the  belly  and  the  chest  65 

The  thighs  and  legs  into  such  nionibers  ehang'd, 

As  never  eye  hath  seen.     Of  former  shape 

All  trace  was  vanish'd.     Two  yet  neither  seem'd 

That  image  miscreate,  and  so  pass'd  on 

With  tardy  steps.     As  underneath  the  scourge  70 

Of  the  fierce  dog-star,  that  lays  bare  the  fields, 

Shifting  from  bi-ake  to  brake,  the  lizard  seems 

A  flash  of  lightning,  if  he  thwart  the  road, 

So  toward  th'  entrails  of  the  other  two 

Approaching  seem'd,  an  adder  all  on  fire,  75 

As  the  dark  pepper-grain,  livid  and  swart. 

In  that  part,  whence  our  life  is  noui-ish'd  first, 

One  he  transpierc'd  ;  then  down  before  him  fell 

Stretch'd  out.     The  pierced  spirit  look'd  on  him 

But  spake  not ;  yea  stood  motionless  and  yawn'd,         80 

As  if  by  sleep  or  fev'rous  fit  assail'd. 

He  ey'd  the  serpent,  and  the  serjient  him. 

One  from  the  wound,  the  other  from  the  month 

Breath'd  a  thick  smoke,  whose  vap'ry  columns  join'd. 

Lncan  in  mute  attention  now  may  hear,  85 

Nor  thy  disastrous  fate,  Sabellus  !  tell. 
Nor  thine,  Nasidius  !     Ovid  now  be  mute. 
What  if  in  warbling  fiction  he  record 
Cadmus  and  Arethusa,  to  a  snake 

Him  ehang'd,  and  her  into  a  fountain  clear,  90 

I  envy  not ;  for  never  face  to  face 
Two  natures  thus  transmuted  did  he  sing. 
Wherein  both  shapes  were  ready  to  assume 
The  other's  substance.     They  in  mutual  guise 
So  answer'd,  that  the  serpent  split  his  train  95 

Divided  to  a  fork,  and  the  ])ierc'd  spirit 
DrcAV  close  his  steps  together,  legs  and  thighs 
Compacted,  that  no  sign  of  juncture  soon 
Was  visible  :  the  tail  disparted  took 
The  figure  Avhich  the  spirit  lost,  its  skin  100 

Soft'ning,  his  indurated  to  a  rind. 
The  shoulders  next  I  mark'd,  that  ent'ring  join'd 
The  monster's  arm-])it8,  whose  two  shorter  feet 
So  lengthen'd,  as  the  other's  dwindling  shrunk. 


88  nETX. 

The  feet  bcliind  then  twisting  up  bocnine  \'t'j 

Tli.-it  part  tliat  man  conceals,  whicli  in  tlic  wrct(^l) 

Was  clciLt  in  twain.     While  both  the  shadowy  smoke 

With  a  new  colour  veils,  and  generates 

Th'  excrescent  ])ile  on  one,  peeling  it  off 

From  th'  other  body,  lo  !  upon  his  feet  110 

One  upright  rose,  and  pi-one  the  other  fell. 

Not  yet  their  glaring  and  malignant  lamps 

Were  shifted,  though  each  feature  chang'd  beneath. 

Of  him  who  stood  erect,  the  mounting  face 

Retreated  towards  the  temples,  and  Avhat  there  115 

Superfluous  matter  came,  shot  out  in  ears 

From  the  smooth  cheeks  ;  the  rest,  not  backward  dragg'd, 

Of  its  excess  did  sha]>e  the  nose;  and  swell'd 

Into  due  size  protuberant  the  lips. 

lie,  on  the  earth  who  lay,  meanwhile  extends  120 

Ilis  sharpen'd  visage,  and  draws  down  the  cars 

Into  the  head,  as  doth  the  slug  his  horns.  I 

His  tongue  continuous  before  and  apt  ! 

For  utt'rance,  severs ;  and  the  other's  fork 

Closing  unites.     That  done  the  smoke  was  laid.  125 

The  soul,  transform'd  into  the  brute,  glides  off, 

Hissing  along  the  vale,  and  after  him 

The  other  talking  sputters ;  but  soon  turn'd 

His  new-grown  shoulders  on  hira,  and  in  few  ' 

Thus  to  another  si)ake  :  "Along  this  path  130 

Crawling,  as  I  have  done,  speed  Buoso  now !  " 

So  saw  I  fluctuate  in  successive  change 
Th'  unsteady  ballast  of  the  seventh  hold  : 
And  here  if  aught  my  tongue  have  swerv'd,  events 
So  strange  may  be  its  warrant.     O'er  niine  eyes  135 

Confusion  hung,  and  on  my  thoughts  amaze. 

Yet  'scap'd  they  not  so  covertly,  but  well 
I  mark'd  Sciancato  :  he  alone  it  was 

Of  the  three  first  that  came,  who  chang'd  not :  thou,  | 

The  other's  fate,  Gaville,  still  dost  rue.  140 


HELL.  89 

CANTO  XXVI. 

Florence  exult !  for  thou  so  mightily 

llast  thriven,  that  o'er  laud  and  sea  thy  wings 

Thou  beatest,  and  thy  name  spreads  over  hell ! 

Among  the  phmd'rers  such  the  three  I  found 

Thy  citizens,  whence  shame  to  me  thy  son,  5 

And  no  proud  honour  to  thyself  redounds. 

But  if  our  minds,  when  dreaming  near  the  dawn, 
Are  of  the  truth  presageful,  thou  ere  long 
Shalt  feel  what  Prato,  (not  to  say  the  rest) 
Would  fain  might  come  upon  thee;  and  that  chance     10 
Were  in  good  time,  if  it  befell  thee  now. 
Would  so  it  Avere,  since  it  must  needs  befall ! 
For  as  time  wears  nie,  I  shall  grieve  the  more. 

We  from  the  depth  departed  ;  and  my  guide 
Kemounting  scal'd  the  flinty  steps,  Avhich  late  15 

We  downward  trac'd,  and  drew  me  up  the  steep. 
Pursuing  thus  our  solitary  way 
Among  the  crags  and  splinters  of  the  rock, 
Sped  not  our  feet  without  the  help  of  hands. 

Then  sorrow  seiz'd  me,  which  e'en  now  revives,  20 

As  my  thought  turns  again  to  what  I  saw, 
And,  more  than  I  am  wont,  I  rein  and  curb 
The  powers  of  nature  in  me,  lest  they  run 
Where  Virtue  guides  not ;  that  if  aught  of  good 
My  gentle  star,  or  something  better  gave  me,  25 

I  envy  not  myself  the  precious  boon. 

As  in  that  season,  when  the  sun  least  veils 
His  face  that  lightens  all,  what  time  the  fly 
Gives  way  to  the  shrill  gnat,  the  peasant  then 
Upon  some  cliff  reclin'd,  beneath  him  sees  30 

Fire-flies  innumerous  spangling  o'er  the  vale, 
Vineyard  or  tilth,  where  his  day-labour  lies  : 
With  flames  so  numberless  throughout  its  space 
Shone  the  eighth  cliasm,  apparent,  when  the  depth 
Was  to  my  view  expos'd.     As  he,  Avhose  wrongs  35 

The  bears  aveng'd,  at  its  dei)arture  saw 
Elijah's  chariot,  when  the  steeds  erect 
Rais'd  their  steep  flight  for  heav'n  ;  his  eyes  meanwhile, 


90  HELL. 

StrnininGj  parsii'd  them,  till  tlie  flame  alone 

Upsoariug  like  a  misty  s|)(;ck  he  keiiii'd  ;  40 

E'en  thus  along  the  gulf  moves  every  flame, 

A  sinner  so  enfolded  close  in  each, 

That  none  exhibits  token  of  the  theft. 

U])on  the  bridge  I  forward  Lent  to  look. 
And  grasp'd  a  flinty  mass,  or  else  had  fall'n,  45 

Though  push'd  not  from  the  height.     The  guide,  M'ho 

mark'd 
HoAV  I  did  gaze  attentive,  thus  began  : 
"  Within  these  ardours  are  the  spirits,  each 
Swath'd  in  confining  fire," — "  Master,  thy  word," 
I  answer'd,  "  hath  assur'd  me  ;  yet  I  deem'd  50 

Already  of  the  truth,  already  wish'd 
To  ask  thee,  Avho  is  in  yon  fire,  that  comes 
So  parted  at  the  summit,  as  it  seem'd 
Ascending  from  that  funeral  pile,  where  lay 
The  Theban  brothers  ?  "     He  replied  :  "  Within  55 

Ulysses  there  and  Diomede  endure 
Their  penal  tortures,  thus  to  vengeance  now 
Together  hasting,  as  erewhile  to  wrath. 
These  in  the  flame  with  ceaseless  groans  deplore 
The  ambush  of  the  horse,  tliat  open'd  wide  60 

A  portal  for  that  goodly  seed  to  pass, 
Which  sow'd  imperial  Rome  ;  nor  less  the  guile 
Lament  they,  whence  of  her  Achilles  'reft 
Deidamia  yet  in  death  complains. 

And  there  is  rued  the  stratagem,  that  Troy  65 

Of  her  Palladium  s]>oil'd." — "  If  they  have  power 
0£  utt'rance  from  within  these  sparks,"  said  I, 
"  O  master !  think  my  prayer  a  thousand  fold 
In  repetition  urg'd,  that  tliou  vouchsafe 
To  pause,  till  here  the  horned  flame  arrive.  70 

See,  how  toward  it  with  desire  I  bend." 

He  thus:  "  Thy  prayer  is  worthy  of  much  praise, 
And  I  accept  it  therefore  :  but  do  thou 
Thy  tongue  refrain  :  to  question  them  be  mine, 
Por  I  divine  thy  wish  :  and  they  perchance,  75 

For  they  were  Greeks,  might  shun  discourse  with  thee." 

Wlien  there  the  flame  had  come,  where  time  and  place 


IIELT,.  91 

SeeTu'd  fitting  to  my  guide,  he  thus  began  : 

"  O  ye,  who  dwell  two  sj)ints  in  one  fire ! 

If  living  I  of  you  did  merit  auglit,  80 

Whate'er  the  measm-e  were  of  that  desert, 

Wlien  in  the  world  my  lofty  strain  I  pour'd, 

Move  ye  not  on,  till  one  of  you  unfold 

In  what  clime  death  o'ertook  him  self-destroy'd." 

Of  the  old  flame  forthwith  the  greater  horn  85 

Began  to  roll,  murmuring,  as  a  fire 
That  labours  with  the  wind,  then  to  and  fro 
Wagging  the  top,  as  a  tongue  uttering  sounds, 
Threw  out  its  voice,  and  spake :  "  Wlien  I  escap'd 
From  Circe,  who  beyond  a  circling  year  90 

Had  held  me  near  Caieta,  by  her  charms, 
Ere  thus  ^neas  yet  had  nam'd  the  shore, 
Nor  fondness  for  my  son,  nor  reverence 
Of  my  old  father,  nor  return  of  love. 

That  should  have  crown'd  Penelope  witli  joy,  95 

Could  overcome  in  me  the  zeal  I  liad 
T'  explore  tlie  world,  and  search  the  ways  of  life, 
Man's  evil  and  his  virtue.     Forth  I  sail'd 
Into  the  deep  illimitable  main, 

With  but  one  bark,  and  the  small  faithful  band  100 

That  yet  cleav'd  to  me.     As  Iberia  far, 
Far  as  Morocco  either  shore  I  saw, 
And  the  Sardinian  and  each  isle  beside 
Which  round  that  ocean  bathes.     Tardy  with  age 
Were  I  and  my  companions,  when  we  came  105 

To  the  strait  pass,  where  Hercules  ordain'd 
The  bound'ries  not  to  be  o'erstepp'd  by  man. 
The  walls  of  Seville  to  my  right  I  left. 
On  the'  other  hand  already  Ceuta  past. 
'  O  brothers  ! '  I  began,  who  to  the  west  110 

'  Through  ])erils  without  number  now  have  reach' d, 
'  To  this  the  short  remaining  -watch,  that  yet 
'  Our  senses  have  to  wake,  refuse  not  proof 
'  Of  the  unpco]iled  world,  following  the  track 
'  Of  Phoebus.    Call  to  mind  from  wlience  we  sprang:  115 
*Ye  were  not  form'd  to  live  the  life  of  brutes, 
'  But  virtue  to  pursue  and  knowledge  liigh.' 


92  IIKTiT-. 

Witli  tliosc  few  words  I  s]iav])eir(l  for  tlio  voyage 

The  mind  of  my  assoc.inlcs,  tliat  T  then 

Cotdd  scarcely  liave  withhold  Ihcni.     "^fo  the  dawn       120 

Our  ])oo]>  wc  turiiM,  and  for  the  witless  Hioht 

IMade  our  oars  wings,  still  gaining  on  the  left. 

Each  star  of  the'  other  pole  night  now  helield,- 

And  ours  so  low,  that  from  the  ocean-floor 

It  rose  not.     Five  times  re-illum'd,  as  oft  125 

Vanish'd  the  light  from  underneath  the  moon 

Since  the  deep  way  we  enter'd,  when  from  far 

Appear'd  a  mountain  dim,  loftiest  metliought 

Of  all  I  e'er  beheld.     Joy  seiz'd  us  straight, 

But  soon  to  mourning  changed.    From  the  new  land  130 

A  wliirlwind  sprung,  and  at  her  foremost  side 

Did  strike  the  vessel.     Thrice  it  whiri'd  her  round 

With  all  the  M^aves,  the  fourth  time  lifted  up 

The  poop,  and  sank  the  prow :  so  fate  decreed  : 

And  over  us  the  boomin<r  billow  clos'd."  135 


CANTO  XXVII. 

Now  upward  rose  the  flame,  and  still'd  its  light 

To  speak  no  more,  and  now  pass'd  on  with  leave 

From  the  mild  poet  gain'd,  when  following  came 

Another,  from  whose  top  a  sound  confus'd. 

Forth  issuing,  drew  our  eyes  that  way  to  look.  5 

As  the  Sicilian  bull,  that  rightfully 
ITis  cries  first  echoed,  who  had  shap'd  its  mould, 
Did  so  rebellow,  with  the  voice  of  him 
Tormented,  that  the  brazen  monster  seem'd 
Pierc'd    thi-ough   with   pain ;    thus   while   no   way   they 
found    '  lb 

Nor  avenue  immediate  through  the  flame, 
Into  its  language  turn'd  the  dismal  words  : 
But  soon  as  they  had  Avon  their  passage  forth, 
Up  from  the  point,  which  vibrating  obey'd 
Their  motion  at  the  tongue,  these  sounds  we  lieard  :      15 
"  O  thou  !  to  whom  I  now  direct  my  voice  ! 
That  lately  didst  exclaim  in  Lombard  phrase, 


HELL.  93 

De])art  tliou,  I  solicit  thee  no  more,' 
Though  somcwliat  tardy  I  perchance  arrive, 
Let  it  not  irk  thee  here  to  pause  awhile,  20 

And  with  me  parley:  lo  !  it  irks  not  me 
And  yet  I  burn.     If  but  e'en  now  thou  fall 
Into  this  blind  world,  from  that  pleasant  land 
Of  Latium,  whence  I  draw  my  sum  of  guilt, 
Tell  me  if  those,  who  in  liomagna  dwell,  25 

Have  peace  or  war.     For  of  the  mountains  there 
Was  I,  betwixt  Urbino  and  the  height. 
Whence  Tyber  first  unlocks  his  miglity  flood." 

Leaning  I  listen'd  yet  with  heedful  ear, 
When,  as  he  touch'd  my  side,  the  leader  thus :  30 

"  Speak  thou :  he  is  a  Latian."     My  reply 
Was  ready,  and  I  spake  without  delay : 

"  O  spirit !  who  art  hidden  here  below ! 
Never  was  thy  Romagna  without  war 
In  her  proud  tyrants'  bosoms,  nor  is  now :  35 

But  open  war  there  left  I  none.     The  state, 
Ravenna  hath  maintain'd  this  many  a  year, 
Is  steadfast.     There  Polenta's  eagle  broods. 
And  in  his  broad  circumference  of  plume 
O'ershadows  Cervia.     The  green  talons  grasp  40 

The  land,  that  stood  erewhile  the  proof  so  long. 
And  ])il'd  in  bloody  lieap  the  host  of  France. 

"  The'  old  mastiff  of  Verruchio  and  the  young, 
That  tore  Montagna  in  their  wrath,  still  make, 
Where  they  are  wont,  an  augre  of  their  fangs.  45 

"  Lamone's  city  and  Santerno's  range 
Under  the  lion  of  the  snowy  lair. 
Inconstant  partisan  !  that  changeth  sides. 
Or  ever  summer  yields  to  winter's  frost. 
And  she,  whose  flank  is  wash'd  of  Savio's  wave,  50 

As  'twixt  the  level  and  the  steep  she  lies, 
Lives  so  'twixt  tyrant  power  and  liberty. 

"  Now  tell  us,  I  entreat  thee,  who  art  thou? 
Be  not  more  hard  than  others.  In  the  world. 
So  may  thy  name  still  rear  its  forehead  high."  55 

Then  roar'd  awhile  the  fire,  its  sharpcn'd  point 
On  either  side  wav'd,  and  tlius  breath'd  at  last : 


94  HELL. 

"  If  I  flifl  tliink  my  answer  were  to  one, 

Wlio  ever  could  return  unto  tlie  world, 

This  flame  should  rest  unshaken.     But  since  ne'er,        60 

If  true  be  told  me,  any  from  this  dej)th 

Has  found  his  ujnvard  way,  I  answer  thee, 

Nor  fear  lest  infamy  record  the  words. 

"  A  man  of  arms  at  first,  I  cloth'd  me  then 
In  o-ood  Saint  Francis'  girdle,  hoping  so  65 

T'  have  made  amends.     And  certainly  my  hope 
Had  fail'd  not,  but  that  he,  whom  curses  light  on, 
The'  high  priest  again  seduc'd  me  into  sin. 
And  how  and  wlierefore  listen  while  I  tell. 
Long  as  this  s])irit  mov'd  the  bones  and  pulp  70 

My  mother  gave  me,  less  my  deeds  bespake 
The  nature  of  the  lion  than  the  fox. 
All  ways  of  winding  subtlety  I  knew. 
And  with  such  art  conducted,  that  the  sound 
Reach'd  the  world's  limit.     Soon  as  to  that  part  75 

Of  life  I  found  me  come,  when  each  behoves 
To  lower  sails  and  gather  in  the  lines ; 
That  which  before  had  pleased  me  then  I  rued, 
And  to  repentance  and  confession  turn'd; 
Wretch  tliat  I  was!  and  well  it  had  bested  me!  80 

The  chief  of  the  new  Pharisees  meantime, 
Waging  his  Avarfare  near  the  Lateran, 
Not  with  the  Saracens  or  Jews  (his  foes 
All  Christians  were,  nor  against  Acre  one 
Had  fought,  nor  traffic'd  in  the  Soldan's  land),  85 

He  his  great  charge  nor  sacred  ministry 
In  himself,  rev'ren(;'d,  nor  in  me  that  cord. 
Which  us'd  to  mark  with  leanness  whom  it  girded. 
As  in  Socrate,  Constantino  besoughi 

To  cure  his  leprosy  Sylvester's  aid,  90 

So  me  to  cure  the  fever  of  his  pride 
This  man  besought :  my  counsel  to  that  end 
He  ask'd  :  and  I  was  silent :  for  his  words 
Seem'd  drunken  :  but  forthwith  he  thus  resura'd  : 
'From  thy  heart  banish  fear:  of  all  offence  95 

•  I  hithei"to  absolve  thee.     In  return, 
'  Teach  me  my  jmrpose  so  to  execute, 


HELL,  95 

'  That  Penostrino  cumber  earth  no  more. 

'Hcav'n,  as  tliou  knoAvest,  I  Imve  power  to  shut 

'And  o]>en  :  and  the  keys  are  therefore  twain,  100 

'Tlie  which  my  predecessor  meanly  priz'd.' 

"  Then,  yielding  to  tlie  forceful  arguments, 
Of  silence  as  more  perilous  I  deem'd. 
And  answer'd  :  '  Father  !  since  thoii  washest  me 
'  Clear  of  that  guilt  wherein  I  now  must  fall,  105 

'Large  promise  Avith  performance  scant,  be  sure, 
'  Shall  make  thee  triumph  in  thy  lofty  seat.' 

"  When  I  was  number'd  with  the  dead,  then  came 
Saint  Francis  for  me;  but  a  cherub  dark 
He  met,  who  cried  :  '  Wrong  me  not;  he  is  mine, 
'And  must  below  to  join  the  wretched  crew,  110 

'  For  the  deceitful  counsel  which  he  gave. 
'  E'er  since  I  watch'd  him,  hov'ring  at  his  hair, 
'  No  power  can  the  im])enitent  absolve ; 
'Nor  to  repent  and  will  at  once  consist, 
'  By  contradiction  absolute  forbid.'  115 

Oh  mis'ry !  how  I  shook  myself,  when  he 
Seiz'd  me,  and  cried,  '  Thou  haply  thought'st  me  not 
'A  disputant  in  logic  so  exact.' 
To  Minos  down  he  bore  me,  and  the  judge 
Twin'd  eight  times  round  his  callous  back  the  tail,       120 
Which  biting  with  excess  of  rage,  he  spake  : 
'  This  is  a  guilty  soul,  that  in  the  fire 
'  Must  vanish,'     Hence  perdition-doom'd  I  rove 
A  prey  to  rankling  sorrow  in  this  garb." 

When  he  had  thus  fulfill'd  his  words,  the  flame         125 
In  dolour  parted,  beating  to  and  fro. 
And  writhing  its  sharp  horn.     We  onward  went, 
I  and  my  leader,  np  along  the  rock, 
Far  as  another  arch,  that  overhangs 

The  foss,  wherein  the  penalty  is  paid  130 

Of  those,  who  load  them  with  committed  sin. 

CANTO  XXYIII. 

Who,  e'en  in  words  unfetter'd,  might  at  full 
Tell  of  the  wounds  and  blood  that  now  I  saw, 


96  HELL. 

Tliougli  he  repeated  oft  the  tale?    No  toMgue 

So  vast  a  theine  could  equal,  speech  and  tliought 

Both  iui])otcnt  alike.     If  in  one  band  6 

Collected,  stood  the  people  all,  who  e'er 

Pour'd  on  Apulia's  haj)])y  soil  their  blood, 

Slain  by  the  Trojans,  and  in  that  long  war 

Wlien  of  the  rings  the  nieasur'd  booty  made 

A  pile  so  high,  as  Rome's  historian  Avrites  10 

Who  errs  not,  with  the  multitude,  that  felt 

The  grinding  force  of  Guiscard's  Norman  steel, 

And  those  the  rest,  whose  bones  are  gather'd  yet 

At  Ceperano,  there  where  treachery 

Branded  th'  Apulian  name,  or  where  beyond  15 

Thy  walls,  O  Tagliacozzo,  without  arms 

Tlie  old  Alardo  conquer'd  ;  and  his  limbs 

One  were  to  show  transpierc'd,  another  his 

Clean  lopt  away  ;  a  s])ectaclc  like  this 

Were  but  a  thing  of  nought,  to  the'  hideous  sight  20 

Of  the  ninth  chasm.     A  rundlet,  that  hath  lost 

Its  middle  or  side  stave,  gapes  not  so  wide. 

As  one  I  mark'd,  torn  from  the  cliin  throughout 

Down  to  the  hinder  passage  :  'twixt  the  legs 

Dangling  his  entrails  hung,  the  midriff  lay  25 

Open  to  view,  and  wretched  ventricle. 

That  turns  th'  cnglutted  aliment  to  dross. 

Whilst  eagerly  I  fix  on  him  my  gaze. 
He  ey'd  me,  with  his  hands  laid  his  breast  bare, 
And  cried  ;  "  Now  mark  how  I  do  rip  me  !  lo !  30 

How  is  Mohammed  mangled  !  before  me 
Walks  AH  weeping,  from  the  chin  his  face 
Cleft  to  the  forelock  ;  and  the  others  all 
Whom  here  thou  seest,  while  they  liv'd,  did  sow 
Scandal  and  schism,  and  therefore  thus  are  rent.  35 

A  fiend  is  here  behind,  who  with  his  sword 
Hacks  us  thus  cruelly,  slivering  again 
Each  of  this  ream,  when  Ave  have  compast  round 
The  dismal  way,  for  first  our  gashes  close 
Ere  Ave  re])ass  before  him.     But  say  Avho  40 

Art  thou,  that  standest  musing  on  the  rock, 
Haply  so  lingering  to  delay  the  pain 


i i 1 1 i > rii iftfiili'-" ''i' ■'•^'^•---■°^^- 


IIKLL.  97 

Sontenc'd  upon  thy  crimes?" — "Him  death  not  yet,"         ] 

My  miide  rejoin'd,  "  liath  overt.'i'en,  nor  sin 

Conducts  to  torment;  hut,  tliat  lie  may  make  45 

Full  trial  of  your  state,  I  who  am  dead 

]\[ust  tlu-ough  the  depths  of  hell,  from  orb  to  orb. 

Conduct  him.     Trust  my  words,  for  they  are  true." 

More  than  a  hundred  spirits,  when  tliat  they  heard, 
Stood  in  the  foss  to  mark  me,  through  amaze  50 

Forgetful  of  their  pangs.     "  Thou,  who  perchance 
Shalt  shortly  view  the  sun,  this  warning  thou 
Bear  to  Dolcino  :  bid  him,  if  he  wish  not 
Here  soon  to  follow  me,  that  with  good  store 
Of  food  he  arm  him,  lest  impris'ning  snows  55 

Yield  hira  a  victim  to  Novara's  power, 
No  easy  conquest  else."     With  foot  uprais'd 
For  stepping,  spake  Mohammed,  on  the  ground 
Then  fix'd  it  to  depart.     Another  shade, 
Pierc'd  in  the  throat,  his  nostrils  miitilate  60 

E'en  from  beneath  the  eyebrows,  and  one  ear 
Lopt  off,  who  Avith  the  rest  through  wonder  stood    . 
Gazing,  before  the  rest  advanc'd,  and  bar'd 
His  Avind-pipe,  that  without  was  all  o'ersmear'd 
With  crimson  stain.     "  O  thou  !  "  said  he,  "  whom  sin  65 
Condemns  not,  and  whom  erst  (unless  too  near 
Resemblance  do  deceive  me)  I  aloft 
Have  seen  on  Latian  ground,  call  thou  to  mind 
Piero  of  Medicina,  if  again 

Returning,  thou  behold'st  the  pleasant  land  70 

That  from  Vercelli  slopes  to  Mercabo  ; 
And  there  instruct  the  twain,  whom  Fano  boasts 
Her  Avorthiest  sons,  Guido  and  Angelo, 
That  if  't  is  giv'n  us  here  to  scftn  aright 
The  future,  they  out  of  life's  tenement  75 

Shall  be  cast  forth,  and  whelm'd  under  the  waves 
Near  to  Cattolica,  through  perfidy 
Of  a  fell  tyrant.     'T^vixt  the  Cy])rian  isle 
And  Balearic,  ne'er  liath  Neptune  seen 
An  injury  so  foul,  by  pirates  done  80 

Or  Argive  crew  of  old.     That  one-eyM  traitor 
(Whose  realm  there  is  a  spirit  here  were  fain 

7 


98  UKLL. 

His  eye  liad  still  lackM  sioht  of)  them  sliall  bring 

To  conf  vence  Avith  liim,  then  so  sh:ii)e  liis  end, 

That  they  sliall  need  not  'gainst  Focara's  wind  85 

Offer  up  vow  nor  pray'r."     I  answering  thus: 

"  Declare,  as  thou  dost  wish  that  I  above 

May  carry  tidings  of  thee,  who  is  he. 

In  whom  that  sight  doth  wake  such  sad  remembrance?" 

Forthwith  he  laid  liis  hand  on  the  cheek-bone  90 

Of  one,  his  fellow-spirit,  and  his  jaws 
Expanding,  cried  :  "  Lo  !  this  is  he  I  wot  of; 
He  speaks  not  for  himself  :  tlie  outcast  this 
Who  overwhebn'd  the  doubt  in  Cicsar's  mind, 
Affirming  that  delay  to  men  prepar'd  95 

Was  ever  harmful.       Oh  !  how  terrified 
Methought  was  Curio,  from  whose  throat  was  cut 
The  tongue,  which  spake  that  hardy  word.     Then  one 
Maim'd  of  each  hand,  uplifted  in  the  gloom 
The  bleeding  stumps,  that  they  with  gory  spots  100 

Sullied  his  face,  and  cried  :  "  Remember  thee 
Of  Mosca,  too,  I  who,  alas  !  exclaim'd, 
'  The  cleed  once  done  thei-e  is  an  end,'  that  prov'd 
A  seed  of  sorrow  to  the  Tuscan  race." 

I  added:  "Ay,  and  death  to  thine  own  tribe."  105 

Whence  heaping  woe  on  woe  he  hurried  off. 
As  one  grief  stung  to  madness.     But  I  there 
Still  linger'd  to  behold  the  troop,  and  saw 
Things,  such  as  I  may  fear  without  more  proof 
To  tell  of,  but  that  conscience  makes  me  firm,  110 

The  boon  companion,  avIio  her  strong  breast-plate 
Buckles  on  him,  that  feels  no  guilt  within 
And  bids  him  on  and  fear  not.     Without  doubt 
I  saw,  and  yet  it  seems  to^pass  before  me, 
A  headless  trunk,  that  even  as  the  rest  115 

Of  the  sad  flock  pac'd  onward.     By  the  hair 
It  boi-e  the  sever'd  member,  lantern-wise 
Pendent  in  hand,  which  look'd  at  us  and  said, 
"  Woe's  me  !  "     The  spirit  lighted  thus  himself, 
And  two  there  Avere  in  one,  and  one  in  two.  120 

Hov/  that  may  be  he  knows  who  ordereth  so. 

When  at  the  bridge's  foot  direct  he  stood, 


HELL.  99 

His  arm  aloft  lie  rearVl,  tlnustinir  tlio  head 

Full  in  our  view,  that  nearer  we  niiixht  hear 

The  words,  whicli  thus  it  utter'd  :  "Now  behold  125 

This  grievous  torment,  thou,  who  breathing  go'st 

To  spy  the  dead  ;  behold  if  any  else 

Be  terrible  as  this.     And  that  on  earth 

Thou  mayst  bear  tidings  of  me,  know  that  I 

Am  Bertrand,  he  of  Born,  who  gave  King  John  130 

The  counsel  mischievous.     Father  and  son 

I  set  at  mutual  war.     For  Absalom 

And  David  more  did  not  Ahitophel, 

S]iurring  them  on  maliciously  to  strife. 

For  parting  those  so  closely  knit,  my  brain  135 

Parted,  alas  !  I  carry  from  its  source, 

That  in  this  trunk  inhabits.     Thus  the  law 

Of  retribution  fiercely  works  in  me." 


CANTO  XXIX. 

So  were  mine  eyes  inebriate  with  view 

Of  the  vast  multitude,  whom  various  wounds 

Disfigui-'d,  that  they  long'd  to  stay  and  weep. 

But  Virgil  rous'd  me:  "What  yet  gazest  on  ? 
Wherefore  doth  fasten  yet  thy  sight  below  5 

Among  the  maim'd  and  miserable  sliades? 
Thou  hast  not  shewn  in  any  chasm  beside 
This  weakness.     Know,  if  thou  Avouldst  number  them 
That  two  and  twenty  miles  the  valley  winds 
Its  circuit,  and  already  is  the  moon  10 

Beneath  our  feet :  the  time  permitted  now 
Is  short,  and  more  not  seen  remains  to  see." 

"If  thou,"  I  straight  replied,  "hadst  weigh'd  the  cause 
For  Avhich  I  look'd,  thou  hadst  perchance  excus'd 
The  tarrying  still."     ]My  leader  part  pursu'd  15 

His  Avay,  the  while  I  follow'd,  answering  him, 
And  adding  thus  :  "  Within  that  cave  I  deem, 
Wliereon  so  fixedly  I  held  my  ken, 
There  is  a  spirit  dwells,  one  of  my  blood. 
Wailing  the  crime  that  costs  liim  now  so  dear."  20 


IGO  HELL. 

Tlicu  spake  my  master  :  "  Let  thy  soul  no  more 
Afflict  itself  for  liim.     Direct  elsewhere 
Its  thouo'ht,  and  leave  him.     At  the  briflg-e's  foot 
I  mark'd  how  he  did  point  with  menacin<2f  look 
At  thee,  and  heard  him  by  the  others  nam'd  25 

Geri  of  Bello.     Thou  so  wholly  then 
Wert  busied  with  his  spirit,  who  once  rnl'd 
The  towers  of  Hautefort,  that  thou  iookedst  not 
That  way,  ere  he  was  gone." — "  O  guide  belov'd  ! 
His  violent  death  yet  unaveng'd,"  said  I,  30 

"  By  any,  who  are  partners  in  his  shame, 
Made  him  contemptuous  :  therefore,  as  I  think, 
He  pass'd  me  speechless  by  ;  and  doing  so 
Hath  made  me  more  compassionate  his  fate." 

So  Ave  discours'd  to  where  the  rock  first  show'd  35 

The  other  valley,  had  more  light  been  there, 
E'en  to  the  lowest  depth.     Soon  as  we  came 
O'er  the  last  cloister  in  the  dismal  rounds 
Of  Malebolge,  and  the  brotherhood 

Were  to  our  view  expos'd,  then  many  a  dart  40 

Of  sore  lament  assail'd  me,  headed  all 
With  points  of  thrilling  ]')ity,  that  I  clos'd 
Both  ears  against  the  volley  Avith  mine  hands. 

As  were  the  torment,  if  each  lazar-house 
Of  Valdichiana,  in  the  sultry  time  45 

'Twixt  July  and  September,  with  the  isle 
Sardinia  and  Marennna's  pestilent  fen. 
Had  heap'd  their  maladies  all  in  one  foss 
Together ;  such  was  here  the  torment :  dire 
The  stench,  as  issuing  steams  from  fester'd  limbs.  50 

We  on  the  utmost  shore  of  the  long  rock 
Descended  still  to  leftward.     Tiien  my  sight 
Was  livelier  to  explore  the  depth,  wherein 
The  minister  of  the  most  mighty  Lord, 
All-searching  .Justice,  dooms  to  punishment  55 

The  forgers  noted  on  her  dread  record. 

More  rueful  was  it  not  methinks  to  see 
The  nation  in  ^gina  droop,  what  time 
Each  living  thing,  e'en  to  the  little  worm, 
All  fell,  so  full  of  malice  was  the  air  60 


HELL.  1"! 

(And  aftorwarrl,  ns  ]inr(ls  of  yore  have  told, 

The  ancient  ])eo]>le  were  restor'd  anew 

From  seed  of  emmets)  than  was  here  to  see 

Tlie  s])irits,  tliat  Languisli'd  tlirough  the  mnrky  vale 

ITp-pil'd  on  many  a  stack.     Confus'd  they  lay,  G5 

One  o'er  the  belly,  o'er  the  shoulders  one 

Roll'd  of  another ;  sideling  crawl'd  a  third 

Along  the  dismal  ]iathway.     Step  by  step 

We  journey'd  on,  in  silence  looking  round 

And  list'ning  those  discas'd,  who  strove  in  vain  70 

To  lift  their  forms.     Then  two  I  mark'd,  that  sat 

Propp'd  'gainst  each  other,  as  two  brazen  pans 

Set  to  retain  the  heat.     From  head  to  foot, 

A  tetter  bark'd  them  round.     N"or  saw  I  e'er 

Groom  currj-ing  so  fast,  for  whom  his  lord  75 

Impatient  waited,  or  himself  perchance 

Tir'd  with  long  watching,  as  of  these  each  one 

Plied  quickly  his  keen  nails,  through  furiousness 

Of  ne'er  abated  pruriency.     The  crust 

Came  drawn  from  underneath  in  flakes,  like  scales  80 

Scra])'d  from  the  bream  or  fish  of  broader  mail, 

"  O  thou,  who  with  thy  fingers  rendest  off 
Thy  coat  of  proof,"  thus  spake  my  guide  to  one, 
"  And  sometimes  makest  tearing  pincers  of  them, 
Tell  me  if  any  born  of  Latian  land  85 

Be  among  these  within  :  so  may  thy  nails 
Serve  thee  for  everlasting  to  this  toil." 

"Both  are  of  Latium,"  weeping  he  replied, 
"  Whom  tortur'd  thus  thou  seest :  but  who  art  thou 
That  hast  inquir'd  of  us?"     To  whom  my  guide  :  90 

"One  that  descend  with  this  man,  who  yet  lives, 
Fi'om  rock  to  rock,  and  show  him  hell's  abyss." 

Then  started  they  asunder,  and  each  turn'd 
Trembling  toward  us,  with  the  rest,  whose  ear 
Those  words  redounding  struck.     To  me  my  liege  95 

Address'd  him:  "  Speak  to  them  whate'er  thou  list." 

And  I  therewith  began  :  "  So  may  no  time 
Filch  your  remembrance  from  the  thoughts  of  men 
In  th'  upper  world,  but  after  many  suns 
Survive  it,  as  ye  tell  ine,  who  ye  are,  100 


J 


l02  TIKT,L. 

And  of  what  rnce  yo  como.     Your  jdinisliincnt, 

Unseemly  and  disgustful  in  its  kind, 

Deter  you  not  from  o])eninjj  thus  much  to  me." 

"  Arezzo  was  my  dwelliua',"  answer'd  one, 
"And  me  Albero  of  Sienna  broutrht  105 

To  die  hy  fire  ;  hut  that,  for  Avhicli  I  died. 
Leads  me  not  liere.     True  is  in  sjiort  I  told  him, 
That  I  had  learn'd  to  wing  my  flight  in  air. 
And  he  admiring  mucli,  as  he  was  void 
Of  wisdom,  will'd  me  to  declare  to  liim  110 

The  secret  of  mine  art :  and  only  hence. 
Because  I  made  him  not  a  ])a3dalus, 
Prevail'd  on  one  sujipos'd  liis  sire  to  burn  me. 
But  Minos  to  this  chasm  last  of  the  ten, 
For  that  I  ]iractis'd  alchemy  on  earth,  115 

Has  doom'd  me.     Him  no  subterfuge  eludes." 

Then  to  the  bard  I  spake :  "  Was  ever  race 
Light  as  Sienna's?     Sure  not  France  herself 
Can  show  a  tribe  so  frivolous  and  vain." 

The  other  leprous  spirit  heard  my  words,  120 

And  thus  rcturn'd  :  "  Be  Stvicca  from  this  charge 
Exempted,  he  who  knew  so  tcm])'rately 
To  lay  out  fortune's  gifts  ;  and  Niccolo 
Who  first  the  spice's  costly  luxury 

Discover'd  in  that  garden,  whei'e  such  seed  125 

Roots  deepest  in  the  soil :  and  be  that  troop 
Exempted,  with  whom  Cacciaof  Asciano 
Lavish'd  his  vineyards  and  wide-spreading  woods, 
And  his  rare  wisdom  Abbagliato  sliow'd 
A  spectacle  for  all.     That  thou  inayst  know  130 

Who  seconds  thee  against  the  Siennese 
'l"'hus  gladly,  bend  this  Avay  thy  sharpen'd  sight, 
That  well  my  face  may  answer  to  thy  ken ; 
So  shalt  thou  see  I  am  Capocchio's  ghost. 
Who  forg'd  transmuted  metals  by  the  power  135 

Of  alchemy  ;  and  if  I  scan  thee  right. 
Thus  needs  must  "svell  remendei' liow  I  aped 
Creative  nature  by  my  subtle  art." 


103 


CANTO  XXX. 


What  time  resentment  burn'd  in  Juno's  breast 

For  Semele  against  the  Theban  blood, 

As  more  than  once  in  dire  mischance  Avas  rued, 

Such  fatal  frenzy  seiz'd  on  Athamas, 

That  he  his  spouse  beholding  with  a  babe  5 

Laden  on  either  arm,  "  Spread  out,"  he  cried, 

*'  The  meshes,  that  I  take  the  lioness 

And  the  young  lions  at  the  pass :  "  then  forth 

Stretch'd  he  his  merciless  talons,  grasping  one, 

One  helpless  innocent,  Learchus  nam'd,  10 

Whom  swinging  down  he  dasli'd  upon  a  rock. 

And  wdth  her  other  burden  self-destroy'd 

The  hapless  mother  plung'd  :  and  Avhen  the  pride 

Of  all-presuming  Troy  fell  from  its  height. 

By  fortune  overwhelm'd,  and  the  old  king  15 

With  his  realm  perish'd,  then  did  Hecuba, 

A  wretch  forlorn  and  ca])tive,  when  she  saw 

Polyxena  first  slaughter'd,  and  her  son, 

Her  Polydorus,  on  the  wild  sea-beach 

Next  met  the  mourner's  view,  then  reft  of  sense  20 

Did  she  run  barking  even  as  a  dog ; 

Such  mighty  power  had  grief  to  wrench  her  soul. 

Bet  ne'er  the  Furies  or  of  Thebes  or  Troy 

With  such  fell  cruelty  were  seen,  their  goads 

Infixing  in  the  limbs  of  man  or  beast,  25 

As  now  two  pale  and  naked  ghost  I  saw 

Thatgnarling  wildly  scam])er'd,  like  the  swine 

Excluded  from  his  stye.     One  reach'd  Capocchio, 

And  in  the  neck-joint  sticking  dee])  his  fangs, 

Dragg'd  him,  that  o'er  the  solid  i>avement  rubb'd  150 

His  belly  stretch'd  out  prone.     The  other  shape. 

He  of  Arezzo,  there  left  trembling,  s])ake  ; 

"  That  sprite  of  air  is  Schicchi ;  in  like  mood 

Of  random  mischief  vent  he  still  his  spite." 

To  wdiom  I  answ'ring  :  "  Oh  !  as  thou  dost  hope,        35 
The  other  may  not  flesh  its  jaws  on  thee. 
Be  patient  to  inform  us,  who  it  is. 
Ere  it  speed  hence." — "  That  is  the  ancient  soul 


104  IIKLL. 

Of  wrctcliod  iMyn-lia,"  lie  ro]ilio<l,  "  wlio  l>iini\l 

AVitli  most  uiilioly  ilaiiie  for  lioi'  own  sii-e,  40 

And  a  false  slmpe  assuming,  so  performVl 

The  deed  of  sin  ;  e'en  as  tlie  otlier  tliere, 

Tiiat  onward  passes,  dar'd  to  counterfeit 

Donati's  features,  to  feign'd  testament 

The  seal  affixing,  that  himself  might  gain,  45 

For  his  own  share,  the  lady  of  the  herd." 

When  vanish'd  the  two  furious  shades,  on  whom 
Mine  eye  was  held,  I  turn'd  it  back  to  view 
The  other  cursed  sjtirits.     One  I  saw 

In  fashion  like  a  lute,  had  but  the  groin  50 

Been  sevcr'd,  where  it  meets  the  forked  part. 
Swoln  dro])sy,  disi)roportioning  the  limbs 
With  ill-converted  moisture,  tliat  the  ])aunch 
Suits  not  the  visage,  opeu'd  wide  his  lips 
Gasping  as  in  the  hectic  man  for  drought,  55 

One  towards  the  chin,  the  other  upward  curl'd. 

"  O  ye,  who  in  this  world  of  misery. 
Wherefore  I  know  not,  are  exempt  from  pain," 
Thus  he  began,  "  attentively  regard 

Adamo's  woe.     When  living,  full  supply  GO 

Ne'er  lack'd  me  of  what  most  I  coveted  ; 
One  drop  of  water  now,  alas  !  I  crave. 
The  rills,  that  glitter  down  the  grassy  slopes 
Of  Casentino,  making  fresh  and  soft 

The  banks  whereby  they  glide  to  Arno's  stream,  (;5 

Stand  ever  in  my  view;  and  not  in  vain  ; 
For  more  the  pictur'd  semblance  dries  me  xip, 
]\[uch  more  than  the  disease,  which  makes  the  flesh 
Desert  these  shrivel'd  cheeks.     So  from  tlie  ])lace. 
Where  I  transgress'd,  stern  justice  urging  me,  7^ 

Takes  means  to  qiiicken  more  my  lab'ring  sighs. 
There  is  Romena,  where  I  falsified 
The  metal  with  the  Baptist's  form  imprest, 
For  which  on  earth  I  left  my  body  burnt. 
But  if  I  here  might  see  the  sorrowing  soul  '55 

Of  Guido,  Alessandro,  or  their  brother. 
For  Branda's  limpid  s]iring  I  would  not  change 
The  welcome  sight.     One  is  e'en  now  within, 


•  HELL.  105 

If  truly  tlio  mad  s])irits  tell,  that  round 

Are  waiul'rhig.     [Jut  wherein  besteads  mc  tliat  i*  80 

My  limbs  are  fetter'd.     Were  I  but  so  light, 

That  I  each  hundred  years  might  move  one  inch, 

I  had  set  forth  already  on  this  path, 

Seeking  him  out  amidst  the  shapeless  crew, 

Altiiough  eleven  miles  it  wind,  not  more  85 

Than  half  of  one  across.     They  brouglit  me  down 

Among  this  tribe  ;  induc'd  by  them  I  stamji'd 

The  florens  with  three  carats  of  alloy." 

"  Who  are  that  abject  pair,"  I  next  inquir'd, 
*'  That  closely  bounding  thee  ui)on  thy  right  90 

Lie  smoking,  like  a  band  in  winter  steei)'d 
In  the  chiirstream?" — "When  to  this  gulf  I  dropt," 
He  answer'd,  "here  I  found  them  ;  since  that  hour 
They  have  not  turn'd,  nor  ever  shall,  I  ween. 
Till  time  hath  run  his  course.     One  is  that  dame  95 

The  false  accuser  of  the  Hebrew  youth  ; 
Sinon  the  other,  tliat  false  Greek  from  Troy. 
Sharj:)  fever  drains  the  reeky  moistness  out, 
In  such  a  cloud  ujistcam'd."     When  that  he  heard, 
One,  gall'd  ]-)erchance  to  be  so  darkly  nam'd,  100 

With  clench'd  hand  smote  him  on  the  braced  i)aunch. 
That  like  a  drum  resounded  :  but  forthwith 
Adamo  smote  him  on  the  face,  the  blow 
Iieturning  M'ith  his  arm,  that  seeni'd  as  hard. 

"Though  my  o'erweighty  limbs  have  ta'en  from  me 
The  ])Ower  to  move,"  said  he,  "  I  iiave  an  arm  106 

At  libei'ty  for  such  em]>loy."     To  \\hom 
Was  a.iswer'd  :  "  Wlien  thou  wentest  to  the  fire. 
Thou  hadst  it  not  so  ready  at  command, 
Tlien  readier  Avhen  it  coin'd  th'  impostor  gold."  110 

And  thus  the  dropsied  :  "Ay,  now  speak'st  thou  true. 
But  there  thou  gav'st  not  such  true  testimony, 
AVIien  thou  wast  questional  of  the  truth,  at  Troy." 

"  If  I  s])ake  false,  thou  falsely  stamp'dst  the  coin," 
Said  Sinon  ;  "I  am  here  but  for  one  fault,  115 

And  th'j.i  for  more  than  any  imp  beside." 

"Remember,"  he  replied,  "  O  ])erjur'd  one, 
Tlie  horse  rememljer,  that  di<l  teem  with  death, 


106  HKLL. 

And  all  the  world  be  witnesB  to  thy  guilt."  119 

"  To  thine,"  rcturn'd  the  Greek,  "  witness  the  thirst 
Whence  thy  tonone  cracks,  witness  the  fluid  mound, 
Rear'd  by  thy  belly  up  before  tliine  eyes, 
A  mass  corrupt."     To  whom  the  coiner  thus  : 
"  Thy  mouth  gapes  wide  as  ever  to  let  pass 
Its  evil  saying.     Me  if  thirst  assails,  12:') 

Yet  I  am  stuff'd  with  moisture.  Thou  art  pai'ch'd, 
Pains  rack  thy  head,  no  urging  would'st  thou  need 
To  make  thee  lap  Narcissus'  mirror  uj)." 

I  was  all  fix'd  to  listen,  when  my  guide 
Admonish'd  :  "  Now  beware  :  a  little  more.  130 

And  I  do  quarrel  with  thee."     I  perceiv'd 
IToAv  angrily  he  spake,  and  towards  him  turn'd 
With  shame  so  j^oignant,  as  remember'd  yet 
Confounds  me.     As  a  man  that  dreams  of  harm 
Befall'n  him,  dreaming  wishes  it  a  dream,  135 

And  that  which  is,  desires  as  if  it  were  not, 
Such  then  was  I,  who  wanting  ])0'^^'er  to  speak 
W^ish'd  to  excuse  myself,  and  all  the  while 
Excus'd  me,  though  unweeting  that  I  did. 

"  MorQ  grievous  fault  than  thine  has  been,  less  shame," 
My  master  cried,  "  might  expiate.     Therefore  cast       141 
All  sorrow  from  thy  soul ;  and  if  again 
Chance  bring  thee,  where  like  conference  is  held, 
Think  I  am  ever  at  thy  side.     To  hear 
Such  wrangling  is  a  joy  for  vulgar  minds,"  145 


CANTO  XXXI. 

The  very  tongue,  whose  keen  reproof  before 
ITad  Avounded  me,  that  either  cheek  was  stain'd, 
Now  minister'd  my  cure.     So  have  I  heard, 
Achilles  and  his  father's  javelin  caus'd 
Pain  first,  and  then  the  boon  of  health  restor'd. 

Turning  our  back  upon  the  vale  of  woe. 
We  cross'd  th'  encircled  mound  in  silence.     There 
Was  twilight  dim,  that  far  long  the  gloom 
Mine  eye  advanc'd  not :  but  I  heard  a  liorn 


HELL.  107 

Souiulod  aloud.     The  peal  it  blew  had  made  10 

The  thunder  feeble.     Following  its  course 

The  adverse  way,  my  strained  eyes  were  bent 

On  that  one  spot.     So  terrible  a  blast 

Orlando  blew  not,  wlien  that  dismal  rout 

Overthrew  the  host  of  Charlemain,  and  quench'd  15 

His  saintly  warfare.     Thitherward  not  long 

My  head  was  rais'd,  when  many  lofty  towers 

Methought  I  spied.     "  Master,"  said"  I,  "  what  land 

Is  this  ?  "     He  answered  straight :  "  Too  long  a  space 

Of  intervening  darkness  has  thine  eye  20 

To  traverse  :  thou  hast  therefore  widely  err'd 

In  thy  imagining.     Thither  arriv'd 

Thou  well  shalt  see,  how  distance  can  delude 

The  sense.     A  little  therefore  urge  thee  on." 

Then  tenderly  he  caught  me  by  the  hand  ;  25 

"Yet  know,"  said  he,  "  ere  farther  we  advance, 
That  it  less  strange  may  seem,  these  are  not  towers, 
But  giants.     In  the  pit  they  stand  immers'd, 
Each  from  his  navel  doAvnward,  round  the  bank." 

As  when  a  fog  disperseth  gradually,  30 

Our  vision  traces  Avhat  the  mist  involves 
Condens'd  in  air  ;  so  piercing  through  the  gross 
And  gloomy  atmosphere,  as  more  and  more 
AVe  near'd  toward  the  brink,  mine  error  fled. 
And  fear  came  o'er  me.     As  with  circling  round  35 

Of  turrets,  Montercggion  croAvns  his  walls. 
E'en  thus  the  shore,  encompassing  th'  abyss, 
Was  turreted  with  giants,  half  their  length 
Ul)rearing,  horrible,  whom  Jove  from  heav'n 
Yet  threatens,  when  his  mutt'ring  thunder  rolls.  4U 

Of  one  already  I  descried  the  face, 
Slioulders,  and  breast,  and  of  the  belly  huge 
Great  part,  and  both  arms  down  along  his  ribs. 

All-teeming  nature,  when  her  jilastic  hand 
Left  framing  of  these  monsters,  did  disi)lay  45 

Past  doubt  her  wisdom,  taking  from  mad  War 
Such  slaves  to  do  his  bidding;  and  if  she 
Repent  her  not  of  th'  elephant  and  whale, 
Who  ponders  \vell  confesses  her  therein 


108  iiKix. 

Wiser  and  more  discreet ;  for  when  brute  force  50 

And  evil  will  are  b.ack'd  witli  subtlety, 

Resistance  none  avails.     His  visage  seem'd 

In  length  and  bulk,  as  doth  the  i)ine,  that  tops 

Saints  Peter's  IJouian  fane;  and  tli'  other  bones 

Of  like  proportion,  so  that  from  above  55 

The  bank,  which  girdled  hiin  b(>low,  such  height 

Arose  his  stature,  that  three  Friezelandei-s 

Had  striv'n  in  vain  to  reach  but  to  his  hair. 

Full  thirty  ample  ]>almswas  he  expos'd 

Downward  from  M'hence  a  man  his  garnients  loops.       GO 

"Raphel  l)ai  ameth  sabi  almi," 

So  shouted  his  fierce  lips,  which  sweeter  hymns 

Became  not ;  and  my  guide  address'd  him  thus  : 

"O  senseless  spirit !  let  thy  horn  for  thee 

Interpret :  therewith  ^ent  thy  rage,  if  rage  65 

Or  other  passion  wring  thee.     Search  thy  neck, 

There  slialt  thou  find  the  belt  that  binds  it  on. 

Wild  s])irit !  lo,  upon  thy  mighty  breast 

Where  hangs  the  baldrick  !  "     Then  t(i  me  lie  spake: 

"  He  doth  accuse  himself.     Nimrod  is  this,  70 

Through  whose  ill  counsel  in  the  world  no  more 

One  tongue  prevails.     But  pass  we  on,  nor  waste 

Our  words;  for  so  each  language  is  to  him, 

As  his  to  others,  understood  by  none." 

Then  to  the  leftward  turning  sped  we  forth,  75 

And  at  a  sling's  throAV  found  another  shade 
Far  fiercer  and  more  huge.     I  cannot  say 
What  master  hand  had  girt  him ;  but  he  held 
Behind  the  right  arm  fetter'd,  and  before 
The  other  with  a  chain,  that  fasten'd  him  80 

From  the  neck  down,  and  five  times  round  his  form 
Apparent  met  the  wreathed  links.     "This  proud  one 
Would  of  his  strength  against  almighty  Jove 
Make  trial,"  said  my  guide  ;  "  whence  he  is  thus 
Requited  :  Ephialtes  him  they  call.  85 

Great  was  his  prowess,  when  the  giants  brought 
Fear  on  the  gods  :  those  arms,  which  then  he  piled, 
Now  moves  he  never."     Forthwith  I  return'd  : 
"Fain  would  T,  if  't  were  ])ossil)le,  mine  eyes 


HELL.  109 

Of  Briareus  immeasurable  gain'd  90 

Experience  next."     He  answer'd  :  "  Tliou  shalt  see 

Not  far  from  hence  Antaeus,  who  both  speal^s 

And  is  unfetter'd,  who  sliall  place  us  tliere 

Where  guilt  is  at  its  de])th.     Far  onward  stands 

Whoni  thou  wouldst  fain  behold,  in  chains,  and  made  95 

Like  to  this  spirit,  save  that  in  his  looks 

More  fell  he  seems."     By  violent  earthquake  rock'd 

Ne'er  shook  a  tow'r,  so  reeling  to  its  base, 

As  Ephialtes.     More  than  ever  then 

I  dreaded  death,  nor  than  the  terror  more  100 

Had  needed,  if  I  had  not  seen  the  cords 

That  held  him  fast.     We,  straightway  journeying  on, 

Came  to  Anta3us,  who  five  ells  complete 

Without  the  head,  forth  issued  from  the  cave. 

"  O  thou,  who  in  the  fortunate  vale,  that  made         105 
Great  Scipio  heir  of  glory,  when  his  sword 
Drove  back  the  troop  of  Hannibal  in  flight. 
Who  thence  of  old  didst  carry  for  thy  spoil 
An  hundred  lions  ;  and  if  thou  hadst  fought 
In  the  high  conflict  on  thy  brethren's  side,  110 

Seems  as  men  yet  believ'd,  that  through  thine  arm 
The  sons  of  earth  had  conquer'd,  now  vouchsafe 
To  place  us  down  beneath,  where  numbing  cold 
Locks  up  Cocytus.     Force  not  that  Ave  crave 
Or  Tityus'  help  or  Typhon's.     Here  is  one  115 

Can  give  what  in  this  realm  ye  covet.     Stoop 
Therefore,  nor  scornfully  distort  thy  lij). 
He  in  the  iipper  world  can  yet  bestow 
Renown  on  thee,  for  he  doth  live,  and  looks 
For  life  yet  longer,  if  before  the  time  120 

Grace  call  him  not  unto  herself."     Thus  spake 
The  teacher.     He  in  haste  forth  stretch  d  his  hands, 
And  caught  my  guide.     Alcides  whilom  felt 
That  grap})le  straighten'd  score.     Soon  as  my  guide 
Had  felt  it,  he  bespuke  me  thus  :  "  This  way  125 

That  I  may  clasp  thee ;  "  then  so  caught  me  up, 
That  we  were  both  one  burden.     As  appears 
The  tower  of  Carisenda,  from  beneath 
Where  it  doth  lean,  if  chance  a  DassiuLj  cloud 


110  HELL. 

So  sail  aorosp,  tlmt  opposite  it  hanif^s,  130 

Such  tlicMi  AiitjLMis  scein'd,  as  at  mine  ease 

I  inark'd  him  stoo|)iii<^.     I  were  fain  at  times 

T'  have  pass'd  another  way.     Yet  in  th'  al)ys8, 

That  Lucifer  witli  Judas  low  ingulfs, 

Lightly  he  ])lac'd  us  ;  nor  there  leaning  stuy'd,  135 

But  rose  as  in  a  bark  the  stately  mast. 


CANTO  XXXIL 

Could  I  command  rough  rhimes  and  hoarse,  to  suit 

That  hole  of  sorrow,  o'er  which  ev'ry  rock 

His  firm  abutment  rears,  then  might  the  vein 

Of  fancy  rise  full  springing :  but  not  mine 

Such  measures,  and  with  falt'ring  awe  I  touch  5 

The  mighty  theme ;  for  to  describe  the  depth 

Of  all  the  universe,  is  no  emprize 

To  jest  with,  and  demands  a  tongue  not  us'd 

To  infant  babbling.     But  let  them  assist 

My  song,  the  tuneful  maidens,  by  whose  aid  10 

Amphion  wall'd  in  Thebes,  so  with  the  truth 

My  speech  shall  best  accord.     Oh  ill-starr'd  folk, 

Beyond  all  others  wretched !  who  abide 

In  such  a  mansion,  as  scarce  thought  finds  words 

To  speak  of,  better  had  ye  here  on  earth  15 

Been  flocks  or  mountain  goats.     As  down  we  stood 

In  the  dark  pit  beneath  the  giants'  feet. 

But  lower  far  than  they,  and  I  did  gaze 

Still  on  the  lofty  battlement,  a  voice 

Bespoke  me  thus  :  "Look  how  thou  walkest.      Take     20 

Good  heed,  thy  soles  do  tread  not  on  the  heads 

Of  thy  poor  brethren."     Thereupon  I  turn'd, 

And  saw  before  and  undei'noath  my  feet 

A  lake,  Avhose  frozen  surface  liker  seem'd 

To  glass  than  water.     Not  so  tliick  a  \eil  25 

In  winter  e'er  hath  Austrian  Danube  spread 

O'er  his  still  course,  nor  Tanaifs  far  remote 

Under  the  chilling  sky.     Kull'd  o'er  that  mass 

Had  Tabernich  or  Pi^etrapana  fall'n, 


IIKLL.  Ill 

Not  e'en  its  rim  liad  creak'd.     As  peeps  the  frog  30 

Croaking  above  the  wave,  what  time  in  dreams 
The  viUage  gleaner  oft  pursues  her  toil, 
So,  to  where  modest  shame  appears,  thus  low 
Blue  pinch'd  and  shrin'd  in  ice  the  spirits  stood, 
Moving  their  teeth  in  shrill  note  like  the  stork.  35 

His  face  each  dowuAvard  held  ;  their  moutli  the  cold, 
Their  eyes  express'd  the  dolour  of  their  heart. 

A  space  I  look'd  around,  then  at  my  feet 
Saw  two  so  strictly  join'd,  that  of  their  head 
The  very  hairs  were  mingled.     "  Tell  me  ye,  40 

Whose  bosoms  thus  together  press,"  said  I, 
"  Who  are  ye  '?  "     At  that  sound  their  necks  they  bent. 
And  when  their  looks  were  lifted  up  to  me, 
Straightway  their  eyes,  before  all  moist  within, 
Distill'd  upon  their  lips,  and  the  frost  bound  45 

The  tears  betwixt  those  orbs  and  held  them  there. 
Plank  unto  plank  hath  never  cramp  clos'd  up 
So  stoutly.     Whence  like  two  enraged  goais 
They  clash'd  together;  them  such  fuiy  seiz'd. 

And  one,  from  whom  the  cold  both  ears  had  reft,       50 
Exclaim'd,  still  looking  downward  :   "  Why  on  us 
Dost  s]>eculate  so  long?     If  thou  wouldst  know 
Who  are  these  two,  the  valley,  whence  his  wave 
Bisenzio  slopes,  did  for  its  master  own 
Their  sire  Alberto,  and  next  him  themselves.  55 

They  from  one  body  issued  ;  and  throughout 
Caina  thou  mayst  search,  nor  find  a  shade 
More  worthy  in  congealment  to  be  fix'd. 
Not  him,  whose  breast  and  shadow  Arthur's  hand 
At  that  one  blow  dissever'd,  not  Focaccia,  60 

No  not  this  spirit,  whose  o'erjutting  head 
Obstructs  my  onward  view  :  he  bore  the  name 
Of  Mascheroni :  Tuscan  if  thou  be, 
Well  knowest  who  he  was:  and  to  cut  short 
All  further  question,  in  my  form  behold  65 

What  once  was  Camiccione.     I  await 
Ca7'lino  here  my  kinsman,  whose  deep  guilt 
Shall  wash  out  mine."     A  thousand  vis.-iges 
Then  mark'd  I,  which  the  keen  and  eager  cold 


11 'J  IIKIJ.. 

Had  sliapM  into  n  (1oo;gish  grin  ;  wIkmico  ci'co])s  70 

A  sliiy'rinL!^  liorror  o'er  iiic,  at  tlu;  tlioiii^Iit 

Of  tliose  i'rori'  sliallows.     Wliile  wo  jounicy'd  on 

Toward  the  middle,  at  wliose  point  nnites 

All  heavy  substance,  and  I  trembling  went 

Through  that  eternal  chillness,  I  know  not  76 

If  will  it  were  or  destiny,  or  chance, 

But,  passing  'midst  the  heads,  my  foot  did  strike 

Witli  violent  blow  against  the  face  of  one. 

"  Wherefore  dost  bruise  me?"  weeping,  he  exclaini'd, 
"  Unless  thy  errand  be  some  fresli  revenge  SO 

For  Monta])erto,  Avherefore  troublest  me?" 

I  thus  :  "  Instructor,  now  await  me  here. 
That  I  through  him  may  rid  me  of  my  doubt. 
Thenceforth  what  haste  thou  wilt."     The  teacher  2)aus'd, 
And  to  that  shade  I  s])ake,  who  bitterly  85 

Still  curs'd  me  in  his  wrath.     "What  art  thou,  speak, 
That  railest  thus  on  others?  "     He  replied  : 
"  Now  who  art  thou,  that  smiting  others'  cheeks 
Through  Antenora  roamest,  with  such  force 
As  were  past  suff'rance,  wert  thou  living  still  ?  "  90 

"  And  I  am  living,  to  thy  joy  perchance," 
Was  my  reply,  "  if  fame  be  dear  to  thee, 
That  with  the  rest  I  may  thy  name  enrol." 

"  The  contrary  of  what  I  covet  most," 
Said  he,  "  thou  tender'st :  hence  ;  nor  vex  me  more.      95 
111  knowest  thou  to  flatter  in  this  vale." 

Then  seizing  on  his  hinder  scalp,  I  cried  : 
"  Name  thee,  or  not  a  hair  shall  tarry  here." 

"  Rend  all  away,"  he  answer'd,  "  yet  for  that 
I  will  not  tell  nor  show  thee  wlio  I  am,  100 

Though  at  my  head  thou  pluck  a  thousand  times." 

Now  1  had  grasp'd  his  tresses,  and  stript  off 
More  than  one  tuft,  he  barking,  with  his  eyes 
Drawn  in  and  downward,  when  another  cried, 
"  What  ails  thee,  Bocca?     Sound  not  loud  enough       105 
Thy  chatt'ring  teetli,  but  thou  must  bark  outright? 
What  devil  wrings  thee  ?  "— "  Now,"  said  I,  "^be  dumb, 
Accursed  traitor  !  to  thy  shame  of  thee 
True  tidings  will  I  bear.'"—"  Off,"  he  rei)lied, 


HELL.  113 

"  Tell  what  thou  list;  l)ut  ns  thou  escape  from  hence  110 

To  speak  of  him  whose  tongue  hath  been  so  glib, 

Forget  not :  here  he  wails  the  Frenchman's  gold. 

'  Him  of  Duera,'  thou  canst  say,  '  I  mark'd. 

Where  the  starv'd  sinners  ])ine.'     If  thou  be  ask'd 

What  other  shade  was  with  them,  at  thy  side  115 

Is  Beccaria,  whose  red  gorge  distain'd 

The  biting  axe  of  B^lorence.     Farther  on, 

If  I  misdeem  not,  Soldanieri  bides, 

With  Ganellon,  and  Tribaldello,  him 

Who  op'd  Faenza  when  the  peo])le  slept."  120 

We  now  had  left  him,  ])assing  on  our  way, 
When  I  beheld  two  spirits  by  the  ice 
Pent  in  one  hollow,  that  the  head  of  one 
Was  cowl  unto  the  other;  and  as  bread 
Is  raven'd  up  through  hunger,  th'  uppermost  125 

Did  so  ap})ly  his  fangs  to  th'  other's  brain. 
Where  the  spine  joins  it.     Not  more  furiously 
On  Menalip]nis'  tem])les  Tydeus  guaw'd, 
Than  on  that  skull  and  on  its  garbnge  he. 

"  O  thou  who  show'st  so  beastly  sign  of  liate  130 

'Gainst  him  thou  prey'st  on,  let  me  hear,"  said  I, 
"The  cause,  on  such  condition,  that  if  right 
Warrant  thy  grievance,  knowing  who  ye  are, 
And  what  the  colour  of  his  sinning  was, 
I  may  repay  thee  in  the  world  above,  135 

If  that,  wherewith  I  speak  be  moist  so  long." 


CANTO  XXXIII. 

His  jaws  uplifting  from  their  fell  repast. 
That  sinner  wip'd  them  on  the  hairs  o'  th'  head, 
Which  he  behind  had  mangled,  then  began: 
"  Thy  will  obeying,  I  call  up  afresh 
Sorrow  ])ast  cure,  which  but  to  think  of  wrings 
My  heart,  or  ere  I  tell  on't.     But  if  words. 
That  I  may  utter,  shall  prove  seed  to  bear 
Fruit  of  eternal  infamy  to  him, 
The  traitoi'  whom  I  gnaw  at,  thou  at  once 

8 


114  HELL. 

Slinlt  see  me  speak  and  wc(^)>.     Who  tlioii  majst  be       10 

I  know  not,  nor  liow  ■iiere  below  ai-t  come  : 

But  Florentine  thou  seemest  of  a  truth. 

When  I  do  hear  thee.     Know  I  was  on  earth 

Count  Ugolino,  and  th'  Archbishop  he 

Kuggieri.     AVhy  I  neighbour  him  so  close,  15 

Now  list.     That  through  effect  of  his  ill  thoughts 

In  him  my  trust  reposing,  I  was  ta'en 

And  after  murder'd,  need  is  not  I  tell. 

What  therefore  thou  canst  not  have  heard,  that  is, 

How  cruel  was  the  murder,  shalt  thou  hear,  20 

And  know  if  he  have  wrong'd  me.     A  small  grate 

AVithin  that  mew,  which  for  my  sake  the  name 

Of  famine  bears,  where  others  yet  must  ^^ine, 

jMready  through  its  opening  sev'ral  moons 

Had  shown  me,  when  I  sle])t  the  evil  sleep,  25 

That  from  the  future  tore  the  curtain  off. 

This  one,  methought,  as  master  of  the  sport, 

Rode  forth  to  chase  the  gaunt  wolf  and  his  whelps 

Unto  the  mountain,  which  forbids  the  sight 

Of  Lucca  to  the  Pisan.     With  lean  brachs  30 

Inquisitive  and  keen,  before  him  rang'd 

Lanfranchi  with  Sismondi  and  Gualandi. 

After  short  course  the  father  and  the  sons 

Seem'd  tir'd  and  lagging,  and  methought  I  saw 

The  sharp  tusks  gore  their  sides.     When  I  awoke  85 

Before  the  dawn,  amid  tlieir  sleep  I  heard 

My  sons   (for  they  were  v.'ith  me)  weep  and  ask 

For  bread.     Right  cruel  art  thou,  if  no  pang 

Thou  feel  at  thinking  what  my  heart  foretold  ; 

And  if  not  now,  why  use  thy  tears  to  flow  ?  40 

Now  had  tliey  waken'd  ;  and  the  hour  drew  near 

When  they  were  wont  to  bring  us  food  ;  the  mind 

Of  each  misgave  him  through  his  dream,  and  I 

Heard,  at  its  outlet  underneath  lock'd  up 

The'  horrible  tower  :  whence  uttering  not  a  word  45 

I  look'd  upon  the  visage  of  my  sons. 

I  wejDt  not:  so  all  stone  I  felt  within. 

They  wept :  and  one,  my  little  Anslem,  cried  : 

•Thou  lookest  so!     Father,  what  ails  thee?'     Yet 


HELL.  1115 

I  shed  no  tear,  nor  answcr'd  all  tliat  day  50 

Nor  the  next  niglit,  until  anotlier  sun 

Came  out  upon  the  world.     When  a  faint  beam 

Had  to  our  doleful  prison  made  its  way, 

And  in  four  countenances  I  descry'd 

The  image  of  my  own,  on  either  hand  55 

Through  agony  I  bit,  and  they  who  thought 

I  did  it  through  desire  of  feeding,  rose 

O'  th'  sudden,  and  cried,  '  Father,  we  should  grieve 

'  Far  less,  if  thou  wouldst  eat  of  us  :  thou  gav'st 

'  These  weeds  of  miserable  flesh  we  wear,  60 

*  And  do  thou  strip  them  off  from  us  again.' 

Then,  not  to  make  them  sadder,  I  kept  down 

J\Iy  spirit  in  stillness.     That  day  and  the  next 

We  all  were  silent.     Ah,  obdurate  earth ! 

Why  open'dst  not  upon  us?     When  we  came  65 

To  the  fourth  day,  then  Geddo  at  my  feet 

Outstretch'd  did  fling  him,  crying,  '  Hast  no  help 

'  For  me,  my  father  ! '     There  he  died,  and  e'en 

]'lainly  as  thou  seest  me,  saw  I  the  three 

Fall  one  by  one  'twixt  the  fifth  day  and  sixth  :  70 

Whence  I  betook  me  now  grown  blind  to  grope 

Over  them  all,  and  for  three  days  aloud 

Call'd  on  them  who  were  dead.     Then  fastinix  jrot 

The  mastery  of  grief."     Thus  having  spoke, 

Once  more  upon  the  wretched  skull  his  teeth  75 

He  fasten'd,  like  a  mastiff's  'gainst  the  bone 

P^irm  and  unyielding.     Oh  thou  Pisa  !  shame 

Of  all  the  people,  who  their  dwelling  make 

In  that  fair  region,  where  th'  Italian  voice 

Is  heard,  since  that  thy  neighbours  are  so  slack  80 

To  punish,  from  their  deep  foundations  rise 

Capraia  and  Gorgona,  and  dam  up 

Tlie  mouth  of  Arno,  that  each  soul  in  thee 

May  perish  in  the  waters !     What  if  fame 

Reported  that  thy  castles  were  betray'd  85 

By  XJgolino,  yet  no  right  hadst  thou 

To  stretch  his  children  on  the  rack.     For  them, 

Brigata,  XJguccione,  and  the  pair 

Of  gentle  ones,  of  whom  my  song  hath  told, 


116  HELL, 

Tlieii"  (eiidtT  years,  llioii  modern  Thebes  !  did  make      90 
UncapaLle  of  guilt.     Omvaixl  we  jiass'd, 
Where  others  skavfd  in  rugged  folds  of  ice 
Not  on  their  feet  were  turn'd,  but  eacli  revers'd. 

There  very  Aveeping  suffers  not  to  wee]) ; 
For  at  their  eyes  grief  seeking  i)assage  finds  95 

Impediment,  and  rolling  inward  turns 
For  increase  of  sharp  anguish  :  the  first  tears 
Hang  cluster'd,  and  like  crystal  vizors  show, 
Under  the  socket  brimming  all  the  cup. 

Now  though  the  cold  had  from  my  face  dislodg'd     100 
Each  feeling,  as  't  were  callous,  yet  me  seem'd 
Some  breath  of  wind  I  felt.     "  Whence  cometh  this," 
Said  I,  "  my  master  ?     Is  not  here  below 
All  vapour  quench'd  ?  " — "  Thou  shalt  be  speedily," 
He  answer'd,  "  where  thine  eye  shall  tell  thee  whence  105 
The  cause  descrying  of  this  airy  shower." 

Then  cried  out  one  in  the  chill  crust  who  mourn'd  : 
"  O  souls  so  cruel !  that  the  farthest  post 
Hath  been  assign'd  you,  from  this  face  remove 
The  harden'd  veil,  that  I  may  vent  the  grief  110 

Impregnate  at  my  heart,  some  little  space 
Ere  it  congeal  again !  "     I  thus  replied  : 
"  Say  who  thou  wast,  if  thou  wouldst  have  mine  aid ; 
And  if  I  extricate  thee  not,  far  down 
As  to  the  lowest  ice  may  I  descend !  "  115 

"  The  friar  Alberigo,"  answered  he, 
"  Am  I,  wdio  from  the  evil  garden  pluck'd 
Its  fruitage,  and  am  here  repaid,  the  date 
More  luscious  for  my  fig." — "  Hah  !  "  I  exclaim'd, 
"  Art  thou  too  dead  !  "— "  How  in  the  world  aloft        120 
It  fareth  wdth  my  body,"  answer'd  he, 
"  I  am  right  ignorant.     Such  privilege 
Plath  Ptolomea,  that  ofttimes  the  soul 
Drops  hither,  ere  by  Atropos  divorc'd. 
And  that  thou  mayst  wipe  out  moi'e  willingly  125 

The  glazed  tear-drops  that  o'erlay  mine  eyes. 
Know  that  the  soul,  that  moment  she  betrays, 
As  I  did,  yields  her  body  to  a  fiend 
Who  after  moves  and  governs  it  at  will. 


HELL.  117 

Till  nil  its  time  be  rounded  ;  lieadlong  she  130 

Falls  to  this  cistern.     And  jierchance  above 

Doth  yet  ap])ear  the  body  of  a  ghost, 

Who  here  behind  me  winters.     Him  tliou  know'si, 

If  thou  but  newly  art  arriv'd  below. 

The  years  are  many  that  have  pass'd  away,  135 

Since  to  this  fastness  Branca  Doria  came." 

"  Now,"  answer'd  I,  "  methinks  thou  mockest  me, 
For  Branca  Doria  never  yet  hath  died. 
But  doth  all  natural  functions  of  a  man. 
Eats,  drinks,  and  sleeps,  and  putteth  raiment  on."        140 

He  thus :  "  Not  yet  unto  that  upper  foss 
By  th'  evil  talons  guarded,  where  the  pitch 
Tenacious  boils,  liad  Micliael  Zanche  reach'd, 
When  this  one  left  a  demon  in  his  stead 
In  his  own  body,  and  of  one  his  kin,  145 

Who  with  him  treachery  wrought.     But  now  put  forth 
Thy  hand,  and  ope  mine  eyes."     I  op'd  them  not. 
Ill  manners  were  best  courtesy  to  him. 

Ah  Genoese  !  men  j^erverse  in  every  way, 
With  every  foulness  stain'd,  why  from  the  earth  150 

Are  ye  not  cancel'd  ?     Such  an  one  of  yours 
I  with  Romagna's  darkest  spirit  found, 
As  for  his  doings  even  now  in  soul 
Is  in  Cocytus  ))lung'd,  and  yet  doth  seem 
In  body  still  alive  ujjon  the  earth.  155 


CANTO  XXXIV. 

"  The  banners  of  Hell's  Monarch  do  come  forth 

Towards  us  ;  therefore  look,"  so  spake  my  guide, 

"If  thou  discern  him."     As,  when  breathes  a  cloud 

Heavy  and  dense,  or  when  the  shades  of  night 

Fall  on  our  heniisjdiere,  seems  view'd  from  far  5 

A  windmill,  which  the  blast  stirs  bi'iskly  round, 

Such  Avas  the  fabric  then  methought  I  saw. 

To  shield  me  from  the  wind,  forthwith  I  drew 
Behind  my  guide:  no  covert  else  was  there. 

Now  came  I  (and  with  fear  I  bid  my  strain  10 

Record  the  marvel)  where  the  souls  were  all 


1  1  8  IIKTX. 

Wliolm'd  undorneatli,  traiispni'ent,  as  through  glass 

I  Pelhu-id  the  frail  stem.     Some  ])rone  were  laid, 

I  Others  stood  upright,  this  upon  the  soles, 
Tliat  on  his  head,  a  tliird  with  face  to  feet  15 

Arch'd  like  a  bow.     When  to  the  point  we  came, 

[  Wliereat  my  guide  was  i)lcas'd  that  I  should  see 

t;  Tlie  creature  eminent  in  l)eauty  once, 

i^  lie  from  before  me  stepp'd  and  made  me  pause. 
=         "  Lo  !  "  he  exclaim'd,  "  lo  Dis  !  and  lo  the  i)lace,         20 

j  Where  thou  hast  need  to  arm  thy  heart  with  strength." 

How  frozen  and  how  faint  I  then  became, 

i  Ask  me  not,  reader  !  for  I  write  it  not, 

S  Since  words  would  fail  to  tell  tliee  of  my  state. 

I  I  was  not  dead  nor  living.     Tliink  thyself  25 

I  If  quick  conception  work  in  thee  at  all. 
How  I  did  feel.     That  emjieror,  who  sways 

H  The  realm  of  sorrow,  at  mid  breast  from  th'  ice 

1;  Stood  forth  ;  and  I  in  stature  am  more  like 

I  A  giant,  than  the  giants  are  in  his  arms.  30 

I  Mark  now  how  great  that  whole  must  be,  which  suits 

\  With  such  a  part.     If  he  were  beautiful 

I  As  he  is  hideous  now,  and  yet  did  dare 

i  To  scowl  upon  his  Maker,  well  from  him 

I  May  all  our  mis'ry  flov/.     Oh  what  a  sight !  35 

I  How  passing  strange  it  seem'd,  Avhen  I  did  spy 

!:  Upon  his  head  three  faces  :  one  in  front 

[  Of  hue  vermilion,  th'  other  two  with  this 

I  Midway  each  shoulder  join'd  and  at  the  crest; 

[  The  right  'twixt  Avau  and  yellow  seem'd  :  the  left  40 

I  To  look  on,  such  as  come  from  whence  old  Nile 

;'  Stoops  to  the  lowlands.     Under  each  shot  forth 

I  Two  mighty  wings,  enormous  as  became 

I  A  bird  so  vast.     Sails  never  such  I  saw 

Outstretch'd  on  the  wide  sea.     No  plumes  had  they,     45 

■  But  were  in  textui'e  like  a  bat,  and  these 

I  He  flapp'd  i'  th'  air,  that  from  him  issued  still 

3  Three  winds,  wherewith  Cocytus  to  its  depth 

I  Was  frozen.     At  six  eyes  he  wept :  the  tears 

J,  Adown  tliree  chins  distill'd  with  bloody  foam.  50 

;  At  every  mouth  his  teeth  a  sinner  champ'd 

j,  Bruis'd  as  with  jiond'rous  engine,  so  that  three 


HELL.  119 

Were  in  this  guise  tormented.     But  fur  more 

Than  from  that  gnawing,  was  the  foremost  2)ang'd 

By  the  fierce  rending,  whence  ofttimes  the  back  55 

Was  stript  of  all  its  skin.     "  That  upper  spirit, 

Wlio  hath  worse  punishment,"  so  spake  my  guide, 

"  Is  Judas,  ho  tliat  hath  his  head  within 

And  plies  the  feet  without.     Of  th'  other  two, 

Whose  heads  are  under,  from  the  murky  jaw  60 

Wlio  hangs,  is  Brutus  :  lo  !  how  he  doth  writhe 

And  speaks  not !     Tli'  other  Cassius,  that  a]')pear8 

So  large  of  limb.     But  night  now  re-ascends. 

And  it  is  time  for  parting.     All  is  seen." 

I  clipp'd  him  round  the  neck,  for  so  he  bade ;  65 

And  noting  time  and  place,  he,  when  the  wings 
Enough  were  oi)'d,  cauglit  fast  the  shaggy  sides, 
And  down  from  ])ile  to  pile  descending  stepp'd 
Between  the  thick  fell  and  the  jagged  ice. 

Soon  as  he  reach'd  the  point,  whereat  the  thigh         70 
Upon  the  swelling  of  the  haunches  turns, 
My  leader  there  with  pain  and  struggling  hard 
Turn'd  round  his  head,  where  his  feet  stood  before. 
And  grappled  at  the  fell,  as  one  who  mounts, 
Tliat  into  hell  methought  we  turn'd  again.  75 

"  Expect  that  by  such  stairs  as  these,"  thus  sj^ake 

!The  teacher,  ])anting  like  a  man  forespent, 
"  We  must  depart  from  evil  so  extreme." 
Then  at  a  rocky  opening  issued  forth, 
I     And  plac'd  me  on  a  brink  to  sit,  next  join'd  80 

With  wary  step  my  side.     I  rais'd  mine  eyes, 
;     Believing  that  I  Lucifer  shoiild  see 

Where  he  Avas  lately  left,  but  saw  him  now 
I     With  legs  held  upward.     Let  the  grosser  sort, 
I     Who  see  not  what  the  point  was  I  had  pass'd,  85 

I     Bethink  them  if  sore  toil  oppress'd  me  then. 
"  Arise,"  my  master  cried,  "  upon  thy  feet. 
The  way  is  long,  and  much  ^lncouth  the  road ; 
And  now  within  one  hour  and  half  of  noon 
The  sun  returns."     It  was  no  palace-hall  90 

Lofty  and  luminous  wherein  we  stood,- 
But  natural  dungeon  where  ill  footing  was 
And  scant  supply  of  light.     "  Ere  from  th'  abyss 


120  HELL. 

1  scp'rate,"  tlius  when  risen  I  began, 

"My  guide!  vouchsafe  few  words  to  set  nie  free  95 

From  error's  tliraldom,     Wliere  is  now  the  iceV 

IIow  standeth  lie  in  posture  thus  revers'd  ? 

And  liow  from  eve  to  morn  in  space  so  brief 

Ifatli  tlie  sun  made  his  transit?"     lie  in  few 

Thus  answering  s])a]<e  :  "Tliou  deemest  thou  art  still  100 

On  til'  other  side  the  centre,  where  I  grasp'd 

Th'  abhorred  worm,  that  boreth  through  the  worhl. 

Thou  wast  on  tli'  other  side,  so  long  as  I 

Descended ;  when  I  turn'd,  thou  didst  o'erpass 

That  point,  to  which  from  ev'ry  part  is  dragg'd  105 

All  heavy  substance.     Thou  art  now  arriv'd 

Under  the  hemisphere  opposed  to  that, 

Which  the  great  continent  doth  overspread, 

And  underneath  whose  canopy  expir'd 

Tlie  Man,  that  was  born  sinless,  and  so  liv'd.  110 

Thy  feet  are  planted  on  the  smallest  sphere. 

Whose  other  aspect  is  Judecca.     Morn 

Here  rises,  when  there  evening  sets  :  and  he. 

Whose  shaggy  pile  was  scal'd,  yet  standeth  fix'd. 

As  at  the  first.     On  this  part  he  fell  down  115 

From  heav'n  ;  and  th'  earth,  here  prominent  before. 

Through  fear  of  him  did  veil  her  with  the  sea, 

And  to  our  hemis])here  retir'd.     Perchance 

To  shun  him  Avas  the  vacant  s])ace  left  here 

By  what  of  firm  land  on  this  side  appears,  120 

Tiiat  sprang  aloof."     There  is  a  place  beneath. 

From  Belzebub  as  distant,  as  extends 

Tlie  vaulted  tomb,  discover'd  not  by  sight, 

But  by  the  sound  of  brooklet,  that  descends 

This  way  along  the  hollow  of  a  rock,  125 

Which,  as  it  winds  with  no  preci])itous  course, 

The  Avave  hath  eaten.     By  that  hidden  way 

My  g;uide  and  I  did  enter,  to  return 

To  the  fair  Avorld :  and  heedless  of  repose 

We  climb'd,  he  first,  I  following  his  steps,  130 

Till  on  our  view  the  beautiful  lights  of  heav'n 

Dnwn'd  through  a  circular  o]HMiing  in  the  cave  : 

'i'hcnce  issuiuir  we  ai-'aiu  l)eheld  the  stars 


PURGATORY. 


CANTO  I. 

O'er  better  waves  to  speed  her  rajiid  coiirse 

The  liglit  bark  of  my  genius  lifts  tlie  sail, 

Well  pleas'd  to  leave  so  cruel  sea  behind ; 

And  of  that  second  region  will  I  sing, 

In  }vhicli  the  human  s])irit  from  sinful  blot  5 

Is  ])urg'd,  and  for  ascent  to  Heaven  prepares. 

Here,  O  ye  hallow'd  Nine  !  for  in  your  train 
I  follow,  here  the  dcaden'd  strain  revive ; 
Nor  let  Callio])e  refuse  to  sound 

A  somewhat  higher  song,  of  that  loud  tone,  10 

Which  when  the  wi-etched  birds  of  chattering  note 

I       Had  heard,  they  of  forgiveness  lost  all  hope. 

{  Sweet  hue  of  eastern  sapphire,  that  was  spread 

*       O'er  the  serene  aspect  of  the  pure  air, 

High  up  as  the  first  circle,  to  mine  eyes  15 

Unwonted  joy  renew'd,  soon  as  I  'scap'd 
Forth  from  the  atmosphere  of  deadly  gloom, 
That  had  mine  eyes  and  bosom  fill'd  with  grief. 
The  radiant  ]»lanet,  that  to  love  invites, 

!Made  all  the  orient  laugh,  and  veil'd  beneath  20 

Tlie  Pisces'  light,  that  in  his  escort  came. 
To  the  right  hand  I  turn'd,  and  fix'd  my  mind 
\       On  the'  other  pole  attentive,  where  I  saw 
I       Four  stars  ne'er  seen  before  save  by  the  ken 
I       Of  our  first  parents.     Heaven  of  their  rays  25 

I       Seem'd  joyous.     O  thou  northern  site,  bereft 
Indeed,  and  widow'd,  since  of  these  depriv'd  ! 

(121) 


122  PUKHATORY. 

As  from  tliis  view  I  liad  desisted,  straight 
Turning  a  little  tow'rds  the  other  ]H)]e, 
There  from  whence  now  tlie  wain  liad  disap2)ear'd,        30 
I  saw  an  old  man  standing  by  my  side 
Alone,  so  worthy  of  rev'rence  in  his  look, 
That  ne'er  from  8on  to  father  more  was  ow'd. 
Low  doM'ii  liis  beard  and  mix'd  with  lioary  white 
Descended,  like  liis  locks,  which  parting  fell  35 

Ui^on  his  breast  in  double  fold.     The  beams 
Of  those  four  luminaries  on  his  face 
So  brightly  shone,  and  with  such  radiance  clear 
Deck'd  it,  that  I  beheld  him  as  the  sun. 

"Say  who  are  ye,  that  stemming  the  blind  stream,     40 
Forth  from  th'  eternal  prison-house  have  fled  ?  " 
He  spoke  and  moved  those  venerable  plumes. 
"  Who  hath  conducted,  or  with  lantern  sure 
Lights  you  emerging  from  the  depth  of  night, 
That  makes  the  infernal  valley  ever  black  ?  45 

Are  the  firm  statutes  of  the  dread  abyss 
Broken,  or  in  high  heaven  new  laws  ordain'd, 
That  thus,  condemn'd,  ye  to  my  caves  approach?" 

My  guide,  then  laying  hold  on  me,  by  words 
And  intimations  given  with  hand  and  head,  60 

Made  my  bent  knees  and  eye  siibmissive  pay 
Due  reverence  ;  then  thus  to  him  replied. 

"  Not  of  myself  I  come  ;  a  Dame  from  heaven 
Descending,  him  besought  me  in  my  charge 
To  bring.     But  since  thy  will  implies,  that  more  55 

Our  true  condition  I  unfold  at  large, 
Mine  is  not  to  deny  thee  thy  request. 
This  mortal  ne'er  hatli  seen  the  farthest  gloom. 
But  erring  by  his  folly  had  approach'd 
So  near,  that  little  space  was  left  to  turn.  60 

Then,  as  before  I  told,  I  was  dispatch'd 
To  work  his  rescue  ;  and  no  way  remain'd 
Save  this  which  I  have  ta'en.     I  have  display'd 
Before  him  all  the  regions  of  the  bad ; 
And  pur])Ose  now  those  spirits  to  display,  65 

That  under  tliy  command  are  purg'd  from  sin. 
How  I  have  brought  him  would  be  long  to  say. 


PUKOATORY.  123 

From  higli  descends  the  virtue,  by  whose  aid 

I  to  tliy  siglit  and  lieariug  liiin  liave  h.:'d. 

Now  may  our  coming  })le:vse  thee.     In  the  search  70 

Of  liberty  he  journeys  :  that  how  dear 

They  know,  who  for  her  sake  liave  life  refus'd. 

Thou  knowest,  to  whom  death  for  her  was  sweet 

In  Utica,  where  thou  didst  leave  those  weeds, 

That  in  the  last  great  day  will  shine  so  bright.  75 

For  us  the'  eternal  edicts  are  unmov'd: 

He  breathes,  and  I  am  free  of  Minos'  power, 

Abiding  in  that  circle  where  the  eyea 

Of  thy  chaste  Marcia  beam,  who  still  in  look 

Prays  thee,  O  hallow'd  spirit!  to  own  her  thine.  80 

Then  by  her  love  we'  implore  thee,  let  us  pass 

Through  thy  sev'n  regions  ;  for  which  best  thanks 

I  for  thy  favour  will  to  her  return, 

If  mention  there  below  thou  not  disdain." 

"  Marcia  so  pleasing  in  my  sight  was  found,"  85 

He  then  to  him  rejoin'd,  "  while  I  was  there, 
That  all  she  ask'd  mc  I  was  fain  to  grant. 
Now  that  beyond  the'  accursed  stream  she  dwells, 
She  may  no  longer  move  me,  by  that  law, 
Which  was  ordain'd  me,  when  I  issued  thence.  90 

Not  so,  if  Dame  from  heaven,  as  thou  sayst. 
Moves  and  directs  thee  ;  then  no  flattery  needs. 
Enough  for  me  that  in  her  name  thou  ask. 
Go  therefore  now  :  and  with  a  slender  reed 
See  that  thou  duly  gird  him,  and  his  face  95 

Lave,  till  all  sordid  stain  thou  wipe  from  thence. 
For  not  with  eye,  by  any  cloud  obscur'd, 
Would  it  be  seemly  before  him  to  come. 
Who  stands  the  foremost  minister  in  heaven. 
This  islet  all  around,  there  far  beneath,  100 

Where  the  wave  beats  it,  on  the  o.)zy  bed 
Produces  store  of  reeds.     No  other  plant, 
Cover'd  with  leaves,  or  harden'd  in  its  stalk, 
There  lives,  not  bending  to  the  water's  sway. 
After,  this  way  return  not ;  but  the  sun  105 

Will  show  you,  that  now  rises,  where  to  take 
The  mountain  in  its  easiest  ascent." 


124  puiJOATonY. 

He  disapponrM  ;  and  I  niysolf  u])rais'd 
Speecliless,  and  to  my  guide  retiring  close, 
Toward  liim  tiirii'd  mine  eyes.     lie  thus  began  ;  110 

"  My  son  !  observant  thou  my  ste])S  pursue. 
We  must  retreat  to  rearward,  for  tliat  way 
Tlie  cliampain  to  its  low  extreme  declines." 

The  dawn  had  chas'd  the  matin  hour  of  prime, 
Which  fled  before  it,  so  that  from  afar  115 

I  S])y'd  the  trembling  of  the  ocean  stream. 

We  travers'd  the  deserted  plain,  as  one 
Who,  wander'd  from  his  track,  thinks  every  step 
Trodden  in  vain  till  he  regain  the  ])ath. 

When  we  had  come,  where  yet  the  tender  dew         120 
Strove  with  the  sun,  and  in  a  j)lace,  where  fresh 
The  wind  breath'd  o'er  it,  while  it  slowly  dried  ; 
Both  hands  extended  on  the  watery  grass 
My  master  plac'd,  in  graceful  act  and  kmd. 
Whence  I  of  his  intent  before  appriz'd,  125 

Stretch'd  out  to  him  my  cheeks  suffus'd  wiih  tears. 
There  to  my  visage  he  anew  restor'd 
That  hue,  which  the  dun  shades  of  hell  conceal'd. 

Then  on  the  solitary  shore  arriv'd, 
That  never  sailing  on  its  waters  saw  130 

]\Ian,  that  could  after  measure  back  his  course, 
lie  girt  me  in  such  manner  as  had  pleas'd 
Ilim  wlio  instructed,  and  O,  strange  to  tell ! 
As  he  selected  every  humble  plant. 

Wherever  one  was  pluck'd,  another  there  135 

Kesembling,  straightway  in  its  place  arose. 


CANTO  II. 

Now  had  the  sun  to  that  horizon  reach'd, 

That  covers,  with  the  most  exalted  point 

Of  its  meridian  circle,  Salem's  walls, 

And  night,  that  opposite  to  him  her  orb 

Rounds,  from  the  stream  of  Ganges  issued  forth, 

Holding  the  scales,  that  from  her  hands  are  dropp'd 

When  she  reiefns  hio;hest :  so  that  where  I  was, 


PURGATORY.  125 

Aurora's  white  and  vernieil-tinctur'd  cheek 
To  orange  turn'd  as  she  in  age  incrcas'd. 

Meanwhile  we  linger'd  by  the  water's  brink,  10 

Like  men,  wlio,  musing  on  their  road,  in  thought 
Journey,  wliile  motionless  the  body  rests. 
When  lo  !  as  near  upon  the  hour  of  dawn. 
Through  the  thick  vapours  Mars  with  fiery  beam 
Glares  down  in  west,  over  the  ocean  floor  ;  15 

So  seem'd,  what  once  again  I  hope  to  view, 
A  light  so  swiftly  coming  through  the  sea, 
No  winged  course  might  equal  its  career. 
From  which  when  for  a  space  I  had  withdrawn 
Mine  eyes,  to  make  inquiry  of  my  guide,  20 

Again  I  look'd  and  saw  it  grown  in  size 
And  brightness  :  then  on  either  side  aj^pear'd 
Something,  but  what  I  knew. not  of  bright  hue, 
And  by  degrees  from  underneath  it  came 
Another.     JVIy  preceptor  silent  yet  25 

Stood,  while  the  brightness,  that  we  first  discerned, 
Open'd  the  form  of  wings  :  then  when  he  knew 
The  pilot,  cried  aloud,  "  Down,  down  ;  bend  low 
Thy  knees  ;  behold  God's  angel :  fold  thy  hands : 
Now  shalt  thou  see  true  Ministers  indeed.  30 

Lo  how  all  human  means  he  sets  at  nought ! 
So  that  nor  oar  he  needs,  nor  other  sail 
Except  his  wings,  between  such  distant  shores. 
Lo  how  straight  up  to  heav'n  he  holds  them  rear'd, 
Winnowing  the  air  with  those  eternal  plumes,  35 

That  not  like  mortal  hairs  fall  off  or  change  !  " 

As  more  and  more  toward  us  came,  more  bright 
Appear'd  the  bird  of  God,  nor  could  the  eye 
Endure  his  splendour  near  :  I  mine  bent  down. 
He  drove  ashore  in  a  small  bark  so  swift  40 

And  light,  that  in  its  course  no  wave  it  drank. 
The  heav'nly  steersman  at  the  prow  Avas  seen. 
Visibly  written  blessed  in  his  looks. 
Within  a  hundred  spirits  and  more  there  sat. 
"  In  Exitu  Israel  de  ^^gyjito."  45 

All  with  one  voice  together  sang,  with  what 
In  the  remainder  of  that  hymn  is  writ. 


126  PUKGATORY. 

Then  soon  as  with  the  sign  of  holy  cross 

He  bless'd  them,  they  at  once  leaj)Vl  out  on  land, 

He  swiftty  as  he  came  return'd.     The  crew,  50 

There  left,  ajjpear'd  astounded  with  the  place, 

Gazing  around  as  one  who  sees  new  sights. 

From  every  side  the  sun  darted  his  beams, 
And  with  his  arrowy  radiance  from  mid  heav'n 
Had  chas'd  the  Capricorn,  when  that  strange  tribe        55 
Lifting  their  eyes  towards  us  ;  "  If  ye  know. 
Declare  what  path  will  lead  us  to  the  mount." 

Them  Virgil  answer'd.     "  Ye  suppose  perchance 
Us  well  acquainted  with  this  place  :  but  here. 
We,  as  yourselves,  are  strangers.     Not  long  erst  60 

We  came,  before  you  but  a  little  space, 
By  other  road  so  rough  and  hard,  that  now 
The'  ascent  will  seem  to  us  as  play."     The  spirits, 
Who  from  my  breathing  had  perceiv'd  I  liv'd, 
Grew  pale  with  wonder.     As  the  multitude  65 

Flock  round  a  herald,  sent  with  olive  branch, 
To  hear  what  news  he  brings,  and  in  their  haste 
Tread  one  another  down,  e'en  so  at  siglit 
Of  me  those  happy  spirits  were  fix'd,  each  one 
Forgetful  of  its  errand,  to  depart,  70 

Where  cleans'd  from  sin,  it  might  be  made  all  fair. 

Then  one  I  saw  darting  before  the  rest 
With  such  fond  ardour  to  embrace  me,  I 
To  do  the  like  was  mov'd.     O  shadows  vain 
Exce})t  in  outward  semblance  !  thrice  my  hands  75 

I  clasp'd  behind  it,  they  as  oft  return'd 
Em])ty  into  my  breast  again.     Surprise 
I  needs  must  think  was  painted  in  my  looks. 
For  that  the  shadow  smil'd  and  backward  drew. 
To  follow  it  I  hasten'd,  but  with  voice  80 

Of  sweetness  it  enjoin'd  me  to  desist. 
Then  who  it  was  I  knew,  and  pray'd  of  it, 
To  talk  with  me,  it  Avould  a  little  pause. 
It  answer'd  :  "  Thee  as  in  my  mortal  frame 
I  lov'd,  so  loos'd  from  it  I  love  thee  still,  85 

And  therefore  pause;  but  why  Avalkest  thou  here?" 
"  Not  without  ])urpose  once  more  to  return, 


PUKFATORY.  121 

Thou  find'st  me,  my  Casella,  where  I  am 

Journeying  tliis  way  ;  "  I  said,  "  but  how  of  tlioe 

Hath  so  much  time  been  lost?"     He  answer'd  straight : 

"  No  outrage  hath  been  done  to  me,  if  he  91 

Who  Avhen  and  whom  he  chooses  takes,  me  oft 

This  passage  hath  denied,  since  of  just  will 

His  will  he  makes.     These  three  months  past  indeed, 

He,  whoso  chose  to  enter,  with  free  leave  95 

Hath  taken  ;  whence  I  wand'ring  by  the  shore 

Where  Tyber's  wave  grows  salt,  of  him  gain'd  kind 

Admittance,  at  that  rivei-'s  mouth,  tow'rd  which 

His  wings  are  pointed,  for  there  always  thi'ong 

All  such  as  not  to  Archeron  descend."  100 

Then  I :  "If  new  laws  have  not  quite  destroy'd 
Memory  and  use  of  that  sweet  song  of  love. 
That  whilom  all  my  cares  had  power  to  'swage; 
Please  thee  with  it  a  little  to  console 

My  spirit,  that  incumber'd  with  its  frame,  105 

Travelling  so  far,  of  pain  is  overcome." 

"  Love  that  discourses  in  my  thoughts."     He  then 
Began  in  such  soft  accents,  that  within 
The  sweetness  thrills  me  yet.     My  gentle  guide 
And  all  who  came  with  him,  so  well  were  pleas'd,         110 
That  seem'd  nought   else  might  in  their  thoughts  have 
room. 

Fast  fix'd  in  mute  attention  to  his  notes 
We  stood,  when  lo  !  that  old  man  venerable 
Exclaiming,  "  How  is  this,  ye  tardy  spirits  ? 
What  negligence  detains  you  loit'ring  here  ?  115 

Run  to  tlie  mountain  to  cast  off  those  scales, 
That  from  your  eyes  the  sight  of  God  conceal." 

As  a  v/ild  flock  of  pigeons,  to  their  food 
Collected,  blade  or  tares,  without  their  pride 
Accustom'd,  and  in  still  and  quiet  sort,  120 

If  aught  alarm  them,  suddenly  desert 
Their  meal,  assail'd  by  more  im])ortant  care  ; 
So  I  that  new-come  troop  beheld,  the  song 
Deserting,  hasten  to  the  mountain's  side, 
As  one  who  goes  yet  where  he  tends  knows  not.  125 

Nor  with  less  hurried  step  did  we  depart. 


i 


128  PUKGATORY. 

CANTO  III. 

Them  sudden  lliglit  had  scatter'd  o'er  the  pL'iin, 

Turu'd  tow'rds  the  mountain,  wliitlier  reason's  voice 

Drives  us ;  I  to  my  faithful  company 

Adliering,  left  it  not.     For  how  of  him 

Depriv'd,  mio;ht  I  have  sped,  or  wlio  beside  5 

Would  o'er  Uic  mountainous  tract  have  led  my  steps  ? 

He  with  the  bitter  pang  of  self-remorse 

Secm'd  smitten.     O  clear  conscience  and  upright 

How  doth  a  little  failing  wound  tliee  sore  ! 

Soon  as  his  feet  desisted  (slack'ning  pace),  10 

From  haste,  that  mars  all  decency  of  act. 

My  mind,  that  in  itself  before  was  wrapt. 

Its  thoughts  expanded,  as  with  joy  restor'd : 

And  full  against  the  steep  ascent  I  set 

My  face,  where  highest  to  heav'n  its  top  o'erflows.  15 

The  sun,  that  flar'd  behind,  witli  ruddy  beana 

Before  my  form  Avas  broken  ;  for  in  me 

His  rays  resistance  met.     I  turn'd  aside 

With  fear  of  being  left,  when  I  beheld 

Only  before  myself  the  ground  obscur'd.  20 

When  thus  my  solace,  turning  him  around, 

Bespake  me  kindly  :  "  Why  distrustest  thou  ? 

Believ'st  not  I  am  with  thee,  thy  sure  guide  ? 

It  now  is  evening  there,  where  buried  lies 

Tlie  body,  in  which  I  cast  a  shade,  remov'd  25 

To  Naples  from  Brundusium's  wall.     Nor  thou 

IMarvel,  if  before  me  no  shadow  fall. 

More  than  that  in  the  skiey  element 

One  ray  obstructs  not  other.     To  endure 

Torments  of  heat  and  cold  extreme,  like  frames  30 

That  virtue  hath  dispos'd,  which  how  it  works 

Wills  not  to  us  should  be  reveal'd.     Insane 

Who  hopes,  our  reason  may  that  space  ex])lore, 

Which  holds  three  persons  in  one  substance  knit. 

Seek  not  the  wherefore,  race  of  human  kind  ;  35 

Could  ye  have  seen  the  whole,  no  need  had  been 

For  Mary  to  bring  forth.     Moreover  ye 

Have  seen  such  men  desiring  fruitlessly  ; 


PURGATORY.  129 


To  whose  (Icsirrs  repose  v/ould  have  been  giv'n, 

Tlint  now  but  serve  them  for  eternnl  grief.  40 

I  speak  of  Plato,  and  tlie  Stagyrite, 

And  others  many  more."     And  then  he  bent 

Downwards  liis  forehead,  and  in  troubled  mood 

Broke  off  his  sjiecch.     Meanwhile  we  liad  arriv'd 

Far  as  the  mountain's  foot,  and  there  the  rock  45 

Found  of  so  steep  ascent,  that  nimblest  steps 

To  climb  it  had  been  vain.     The  most  remote 

Most  wild  untrodden  path,  in  all  the  tract 

'TAvixt  Lcrice  and  Turbia  were  to  this 

A  ladder  easy'  and  open  of  access.  50 

"  Who  knows  on  which  hand  now  the  steej)  declines?" 
My  master  said  and  paus'd,  "so  that  he  may 
Ascend,  who  journeys  without  aid  of  wing?  " 
And  while  with  looks  directed  to  the  ground 
The  meaning  of  the  pathway  he  explor'd,  55 

And  I  gaz'd  ujnvard  round  the  stony  lieight, 
On  the  left  hand  apjtearVl  to  us  a  troop 
Of  spirits,  that  toward  i;s  mov'd  their  steps. 
Yet  moving  seem'd  not,  they  so  slow  aj)proach'd.  j 

I  thus  my  guide  address'd  :  "  Upraise  thine  eyes,       60    I 
Lo  that  way  some,  of  whom  thou  niay'st  obtain  > 

Counsel,  if  of  thyself  thou  find'st  it  not !  "  \ 

Straightway  he  look'd,  and  with  free  speech  replied  :         I 
"  Let  us  tend  thitlier  :  they  but  softly  oome.  ; 

And  thou  be  firm  in  hope,  my  son  belov'd."  65 

Now  was  that  peo])le  distant  far  in  space  } 

A  thousand  paces  behind  ours,  as  much  | 

As  at  a  throw  the  nervous  arm  could  fling,  j 

When  all  drew  l»ackward  on  the  massy  crags  | 

Of  the  steep  bank,  and  fn-ndy  stood  unmov'd  70     | 

As  one  who  walks  in  doubt  might  stand  to  look.  I 

"  O  spirits  perfect !     O  already  chosen  !  "  | 

Virgil  to  them  began,  "by  tliat  Idlest  peace,  \ 

W^hich,  as  I  deem,  is  for  you  all  prepar'd,  | 

Instruct  us  where  the  mountain  lov/  declines,  75     ' 

So  that  attempt  to  mount  it  be  not  vain. 
For  wdio  knows  most,  liim  h<ss  of  time  most  grieves."  j 

As  sheep,  that  step  from  forth  their  fold,  by  one,  j 


130  PUKGATORY. 

Or  pairs,  or  tlirec  at  once;  incanwliile  the  rest 

Stand  fearfully,  bendinj^  the  eye  and  nose  80 

To  ground,  and  what  the  foremost  does,  that  do 

The  others,  gath'ring  round  her,  if  she  stops, 

Simple  and  quiet,  nor  the  cause  discern ; 

So  saw  I  moving  to  advance  the  first. 

Who  of  that  fortunate  crew  were  at  the  head,  85 

Of  modest  mien  and  graceful  in  their  gait. 

When  they  before  me  had  beheld  the  light 

From  my  right  side  fall  broken  on  the  ground. 

So  that  the  shadow  reach'd  the  cave,  they  stopp'd 

And  somewhat  back  retir'd  :  the  same  did  all,  90 

Who  follow'd,  though  unweeting  of  the  cause. 

"  Unask'd  of  you,  yet  freely  I  confess, 
This  is  a  human  body  which  ye  sec. 
That  the  sun's  light  is  broken  on  the  ground, 
Marvel  not :  but  believe,  that  not  without  95 

Virtue  deriv'd  from  Heaven,  we  to  climb 
Over  this  wall  asjnre."     So  them  bespake 
My  master;  and  that  virtuous  tribe  rejoin'd; 
"  Turn,  and  before  you  there  the  entrance  lies," 
Making  a  signal  to  us  wdth  bent  hands.  100 

Then  of  them  one  began.     "  Whoe'er  thou  art. 
Who  journey'st  thus  this  way,  thy  visage  tui-n. 
Think  if  me  elsewhere  thou  hast  ever  seen." 

I  tow'rds  him  turn'd,  and  with  fix'd  eye  beheld. 
Comely,  and  fair,  and  gentle  of  aspect,  105 

He  seem'd,  but  on  one  brow  a  gash  was  mark'd. 

When  humbly  I  disclaim'd  to  have  beheld 
Him  ever :  "  Now  behold  I  "  he  said,  and  show'd 
High  on  his  breast  a  wound :  then  smiling  spake. 

"  I  am  Manfredi,  grandson  to  the  Queen  110 

Costanza  :  whence  I  pray  thee,  when  return'd, 
To  my  fair  daughter  go,  the  parent  glad 
Of  Aragonia  and  Sicilia's  pride  ; 
And  of  the  trutli  inform  her,  if  of  me 
Auglit  else  be  told.     When  by  two  mortal  blows         115 
My  frame  was  shatter'd,  I  betook  myself 
Weeping  to  him,  who  of  free  will  forgives. 
My  sins  were  horrible  ;  but  so  wide  arms 


PUIUiATORY.  131 

Hath  goodness  infinite,  that  it  receives 

All  who  turn  to  it.     Had  this  text  divine  V20 

Been  of  Cosenza's  shepherd  better  scann'd, 

Who  then  by  Clement  cm  my  hunt  was  set, 

Yet  at  the  bridge's  head  my  bones  had  lain, 

Near  Benevento,  by  the  heavy  mole 

Protected  ;  but  the  rain  now  drenches  them,  125 

And  the  wind  drives,  out  of  the  kingdom's  bounds, 

Far  as  the  stream  of  Verde,  where,  ^\'ith  lights 

Extinguish'd,  he  remov'd  them  from  theii-  bed. 

Yet  by  their  curse  we  are  not  so  destroy'd, 

But  that  the  eternal  love  may  turn,  while  hope  130 

Retains  her  verdant  blossoms.     True  it  is, 

That  such  one  as  in  contumacy  dies 

Against  the  holy  church,  though  he  repent, 

Must  wander  thirty-fold  for  all  the  time 

In  his  presumption  past ;  if  such  decree  135 

Be  not  by  prayers  of  good  men  shorter  made. 

Look  therefore  if  thou  canst  advance  my  bliss  ; 

Kevealing  to  my  good  Costanza,  hoAV 

Thou  hast  beheld  me,  and  beside  the  terms 

Laid  on  me  of  that  interdict ;  for  here  140 

By  means  of  those  below  much  profit  comes." 


CANTO  IV. 

When  by  sensations  of  delight  or  pain, 
That  any  of  our  faculties  hath  seiz'd, 
Entire  the  soul  collects  herself,  it  seems 
She  is  intent  upon  that  power  alone. 

And  thus  the  erroui*  is  disprov'd  which  holds  5 

The  soul  not  singly  lighted  in  the  breast. 
And  therefore  when  as  aught  is  heard  or  seen, 
That  firmly  keeps  the  soul  toward  it  turn'd, 
Time  passes,  and  a  man  perceives  it  not. 
Fo]-  that,  Avhereby  we  heai-ken,  is  one  power,  10 

Another  that,  which  the  whole  sjdrit  liath  ; 
This  is  as  it  were  bound,  while  tliat  is  free. 
This  found  I  true  by  ])roof,  hearing  that  spirit 


132  I'UUOATOIIY. 

Ami  woiurriiio- ;  for  full  fifty  steps  aloft 

'JMie  Klin  had  iiicasui-'d  uiiobKervM  of  me,  15 

When  we  arriv'd  where  all  with  one  accord 

The  spirits  shouted,  "  Here  is  what  ye  ask." 

A  larger  aperture  ofttinies  is  stojip'd 
AVith  forked  stake  of  thorn  by  villager, 
When  the  ripe  grape  indjrowns,  than  was  tlie  [)ath,        20 
JJy  which  iny  guide,  and  I  behind  him  close, 
Ascended  solitaiy,  when  that  troop 
De])arting  left  us.     On  Saideo's  road 
Who  journeys,  or  to  Noli  low  descends. 
Or  mounts  Bismantua's  height,  must  use  his  feet;  25 

But  here  a  man  had  need  to  fly,  I  mean 
With  the  swift  wing  and  plumes  of  high  desire, 
Conducted  by  liis  aid,  who  gave  me  hope, 
And  with  light  furnish'd  to  direct  my  way. 

We  through  the  broken  rock  ascended,  close  30 

Pent  on  each  side,  while  underneath  the  ground 
AskVl  help  of  hands  and  feet.     When  we  arriv'd 
Near  on  the  highest  I'idge  of  the  stce]i  bank, 
Where  the  plain  level  open'd  I  exclaim'd, 
"O  master  !  say  which  way  can  we  ])roceed?"  o5 

He  answer'd,  "  Let  no  stej)  of  thine  recede. 
Behind  me  gain  the  mountain,  till  to  us 
Some  ])ractis'd  guide  appear."     That  eminence 
Was  lofty  that  no  eye  might  reach  its  point, 
And  the  side  proudly  rising,  more  than  line  40 

From  the  mid  quadrant  to  the  centre  drawn. 
I  wearied  thus  began  :  "  Parent  belov'd  ! 
Turn,  and  behold  how  I  remain  alone, 
If  thou  stay  not." — "  My  son  !  "  he  straight  reply'd, 
"  Thus  far  put  forth  thy  strength  ;  "  and  to  a  track        45 
Pointed,  that,  on  this  side  projecting,  round 
C-irclcs  the  liill.     His  words  so  spurr'd  me  on, 
That  I  behind  him  clamb'ring,  forc'd  myself, 
Till  my  feet  pressed  the  circuit  plain  beneath. 
There  both  together  seated,  turn'd  we  round  50 

To  eastward,  whence  was  our  ascent :  and  oft 
Many  beside  have  with  delight  look'd  back. 

First  on  the  nether  shores  I  turn'd  my  eyes, 


punoATORY.  inn 

Then  vaisM  them  to  tlic  sun,  and  woiKl'i-ing  inarkM 

That  from  tlie  left  it  smote  us.     Soon  perceivM  55 

That  Poet  sage  how  at  tlie  car  of  liu'Iit 

Amaz'd  I  stood,  where  'twixt  us  aiul  tlie  nortli 

Its  course  it  enter'd.     Wlience  he  tlius  to  nie : 

"  Were  Leda's  offsprino"  now  in  company 

Of  that  hroad  mirror,  that  high  up  and  h)W  GO 

Im|)arts  his  liglit  bcneatli,  thou  niiglit'st  behold 

The  ruddy  zodiac  nearer  to  the  bears 

Wheel,  if  its  ancient  course  it  not  forsook. 

How  that  may  be  if  thou  would'st  tliink  ;  within 

Pond'ring,  imagine  Sion  Avith  this  mount  65 

Plac'd  on  the  earth,  so  that  to  both  be  one 

Horizon,  and  two  hemispheres  apart, 

Where  lies  the  path  that  Phaeton  ill  knew 

To  guide  his  erring  chariot :  thou  wilt  see 

TIow  of  necessity  by  this  on  one  70 

He  passes,  while  by  that  on  the'  other  side, 

If  with  clear  view  thine  intellect  attend." 

"  Of  truth,  kind  teacher  !  "  I  exclaiui'd,  "  so  clear 
Aught  saw  I  never,  as  I  now  discern 
Where  seem'd  my  ken  to  fail,  that  the  mid  orb  75 

Of  the  supernal  motion  (which  in  terms 
Of  art  is  called  the  Equator,  and  remains 
Ever  between  the  sun  and  winter)  for  the  cause 
Thou  hast  assign'd,  from  hence  toward  the  north 
Departs,  when  those  who  in  the  Hebrew  land  80 

Inhabit,  see  it  tow'rds  the  warmer  part. 
But  if  it  please  thee,  I  would  gladly  knov,-, 
How  far  we  liave  to  journey:  for  the  hill 
Mounts  higher,  than  tliis  sight  of  mine  can  mount." 

He  thus  to  me:  "Such  is  this  steep  ascent,  85 

That  it  is  ever  difficult  at  first, 
But,  more  a  man  proceeds,  less  evil  grows. 
When  pleasant  it  shall  seem  to  thee,  so  much 
That  uj)ward  going  shall  be  easy  to  thee. 
As  in  a  vessel  to  go  down  tlie  tide,  90 

TJien  of  this  path  tliou  wilt  have  reach'd  the  end. 
Tliere  hope  to  rest  thee  from  thy  toil.  No  more 
I  ans\\  er,  and  thus  far  for  certain  kiu^w." 


-r~ 


134  PUIMATORY. 

As  lie  liis  words  had  spoken,  near  to  us 

A  voice  there  sounded  :  "  Yet  ye  first  percliaucc  95 

May  to  repose  yon  by  constraint  be  led." 

At  sound  thereof  each  turn'd,  and  on  the  left 

A  huge  stone  we  beheld,  of  which  nor  I 

Nor  he  before  was  ware.     Thither  we  drew, 

And  there  were  some,  who  in  the  shady  place  100 

Behind  the  rock  were  standing,  as  a  man 

TIn-o'  idleness  might  stand.     Among  them  one, 

"Who  seem'd  to  me  much  wearied,  sat  him  down, 

And  with  his  arms  did  fold  his  knees  about, 

Holding  his  face  between  them  downward  bent.  105 

"  Sweet  Sir  !"  I  cry'd,  "behold  that  man,  who  shows 
Himself  more  idle,  than  if  laziness 
Were  sister  to  him."     Straight  he  turn'd  to  us, 
And,  o'er  the  thigh  lifting  his  face,  observ'd, 
Then  in  these  accents  spake  :     "  Up  tlien,  proceed       110 
Thou  valiant  one."     Straight  who  it  was  I  knew; 
Nor  could  the  pain  I  felt  (for  want  of  breath 
Still  somewhat  urg'd  me)  hinder  my  approach. 
And  when  I  came  to  him,  he  scarce  his  head 
Uplifted,  saying  "  Well  hast  thou  discern'd,  115 

How  from  the  left  the  sun  his  chariot  leads." 

His  lazy  acts  and  broken  words  my  lips 
To  laughter  somewhat  mov'd  ;  when  I  began  : 
"  Belacqua,  now  for  thee  I  grieve  no  more. 
But  tell,  why  thou  art  seated  upright  there  ?  120 

Waitest  thou  escort  to  conduct  thee  hence? 
Or  blame  I  only  thine  accustom'd  ways  ?  " 
Then  he  :  "  My  brother,  of  what  use  to  mount. 
When  to  my  suffering  woidd  not  let  me  pass 
The  bird  of  God,  who  at  the  ])ortal  sits  ?  125 

Belioves  so  long  that  lieav'n  first  bear  me  round 
Without  its  limits,  as  in  life  it  bore. 
Because  I  to  the  end  repentant  sighs 
Delay'd,  if  prayer  do  not  aid  me  first, 
That  risetli  up  from  heart  which  lives  in  grace.  130 

Wliat  other  kind  avails,  not  heard  in  heaven  ?" 

Before  me  now  the  Poet  up  the  mount 
Ascending,  cried  :  "  Haste  thee,  for  see  the  sun 


punr.ATOKY.  135 

Has  toucli'd  tlic  point  movidinn,  and  the  niglit 

Now  covers  with  her  foot  Marocco's  shore."  135 


CANTO  V. 

Now  had  I  left  those  spirits,  and  pursued 

The  steps  of  my  Conductor,  when  beliind 

Pointing  the  finger  at  nie  one  exchxini'd  : 

"  See  liow  it  seems  as  if  tlie  light  not  shone 

Frem  the  left  hand  of  him  beneath,  and  he,  5 

As  living,  seems  to  be  led  on."     Mine  eyes 

I  at  that  sound  reverting,  saw  them  gaze 

Through  wonder  first  at  me,  and  then  at  me 

And  the  light  broken  underneath,  by  turns. 

"Why  arc  thy  thoughts  thus  riveted,"  my  guide  10 

Exclaim'd,  "that  thou  liust  slaek'd  thy  pace  '?  or  how 

Imports  it  thee,  what  thing  is  whispcr'd  here? 

Come  after  me,  and  to  their  babblings  leave 

The  crowd.     Be  as  a  tower,  that,  firmly  set. 

Shakes  not  its  top  for  any  blast  that  bloM'S !  15 

He,  in  whose  bosom  thought  on  thought  shoots  out. 

Still  of  his  aim  is  wide,  in  that  the  one 

Sicklies  and  wastes  to  nought  the  other's  strength." 

What  other  could  I  ans^^'er  save  "I  come?" 
I  said  it,  somewhat  with  that  colour  ting'd  20 

Which  ofttimes  pardon  meriteth  for  man. 

Mean-\vhilc  traverse  along  the  hill  there  came, 
A  little  way  before  us,  some  Avho  sang 
Tbe  "  Miserere"  in  res])onsive  strains. 
When  they  jierceiv'd  that  through  uiy  body  I  '_15 

Gave  way  not  for  the  rays  to  pass,  tlieir  song 
Straight  to  a  long  and  hoarse  exclaim  they  chang'd  ; 
And  two  of  them,  in  guise  of  messengers. 
Ran  on  to  meet  us,  and  inquiring  ask'd  : 
"  Of  your  condition  we  would  gladly  learn."  30 

To  them  my  guide.     "  Ye  may  return,  and  bear 
Tidings  to  them  who  sent  you,  that  his  frame 
Is  real  flesh.     If,  as  I  deem,  to  view 
His  shade  they  paus'd,  enough  is  answer'd  them. 


186  PtriJCATOIIY. 


j    Iliin  lot  tlieni  lionour,  tlx^y  may  pri/X'  liiin  well,"  .% 

i        Ne'er  saw  I  lieiy  v:i])Ours  will)  sucli  speed 

Cut  througli  the  seivue  air  at  fall  of  night, 
[    Nor  Augu.st's  cloiuls  athwart  the  sotting  sun, 
'    That  upward  these  did  not  in  shorter  space 
I    Tietui'n  ;  and,  there  arriving,  with  the  rest  40 

I    Wheel  back  on  us,  as  with  loose  rein  a  troop. 
I        "  Many,"  exclaini'd  the  bard,  "  arc  these,  who  throng 
I    Around  us  :  to  ifetition  thee  they  come. 
I    Go  therefore  on,  and  listen  as  thou  go'st." 
[        "  O  spirit !  who  go'st  on  to  blessedness  45 

\    With  the  same  limbs,  that  clad  thee  at  thy  birth." 
I    Shouting  they  came,  "  a  little  rest  thy  step. 
I    Look  if  thou  any  one  amongst  our  tribe 
I    Ilast  e'er  beheld,  that  tidings  of  him  there 
I    Thou  mayst  re}>oi't.     Ah,  wherefore  go'st  thou  on  ?       50 
i    Ah  wherefore  tanuest  thou  not  ?     We  all 
I    By  violence  died,  and  to  our  latest  hour 
I   Were  sinners,  but  then  warn'd  by  light  from  heav'n, 
I    So  that,  repenting  and  forgiving,  we 
I   Did  issue  out  of  life  at  jieace  with  God,  55 

--    Who  wnth  desire  to  see  him  fills  our  heart." 

Then  I:  "  T!ie  visages  of  all  I  scan 
■    Yet  none  of  ye  remember.     But  if  aught, 
•    That  I  can  do,  may  please  you,  gentle  spirits  ! 
Speak  ;  and  I  will  })oi-fortn  it,  by  that  ])eace,  60 

Whicli  on  the  ste])s  of  guide  so  excellent 
Following  from  world  to  world  intent  I  seek." 

In  answer  he  began  :  "None  here  distrusts 
Thy  kindness,  though  not  promis'd  with  an  oath  ; 
So  as  the  will  fail  not  for  want  of  ])Ower.  65 

Whence  I,  who  sole  before  the  others  speak, 
Entreat  thee,  if  thou  ever  see  that  land. 
Which  lies  between  Romagna  and  the  realm 
Of  Charles,  that  of  thy  courtesy  thou  pray 
Those  who  inhnbit  Fano,  that  for  me  70 

Their  adorations  duly  be  put  up, 
By  which  I  may  purge  oft"  my  grievous  sins. 
From  thence  I  came.     But  the  deep  passages. 
Whence  issued  out  the  blood  wherein  I  dwelt, 


— j- 


rU  fKiATORY.  137 

ir|)on  my  bosom  in  Autenor's  l;in<l  75 

Were  made,  wliere  to  be  more  secure  I  thoug'lit. 

The  author  of  the  deed  was  Este's  ])riiice, 

Who,  more  than  ri_t;-lit  couhl  warrant,  wiih  his  wi'atli 

Pursued  me.     Had  I  towards  Mira  tied, 

AV^hen  overta'en  at  Oriaco,  still  80 

Miglit  I  liave  breath'd.     But  to  the  marsh  I  sped, 

And  in  tlie  mire  and  rushes  tangled  there 

Fell,  and  beheld  my  life-blood  lloat  the  ])lain." 

Then  said  another:  "Ah!  so  may  the  wish, 
That  takes  thee  o'er  tlie  mountain,  be  fulfiU'd,  85 

As  tliou  shalt  graciously  give  aid  to  mine. 
Of  Montefeltro  I ;  Buonconte  I: 
Giovanna  nor  none  else  liave  care  for  me, 
Sorrowing  with  these  I  therefore  go."     I  thus: 
"  From  Campaldlno's  field  what  force  or  chance  90 

Drew  thee,  tliat  ne'er  thy  sepulture  was  known  ?" 

"  Oh  !  "  ans\vei-'d  he,  "  at  Casentino's  foot 
A  stream  there  courscth,  nam'd  Archiano,  sprung 
In  Apennine  above  the  Hermit's  seat. 
E'en  where  its  name  is  cancel'd,  there  came  I,  95 

Pierc'd  in  the  heart,  fleeing  away  on  foot. 
And  bloodying  the  plain.     Here  sight  and  speech 
Fail'd  me,  and  finishing  with  Mary's  name 
I  fell,  and  tenantless  my  flesh  remain'd. 
I  will  report  the  trutli ;  which  thou  again  100 

Tell  to  the  li\-ing.     Me  God's  angel  took. 
Whilst  he  of  hell  exclaini'd  :  'O  thou  fi-om  heav'n  ! 
'  Say  wherefore  hast  thou  robb'd  me  ?     Thou  of  him 
'  Th'  eternal  poilion  bear'st  vrith  thee  away 
'  For  one  poor  tear  tliat  he  deprives  me  of.  105 

'  But  of  the  other,  other  rule  I  make.' 

"  Thou  knowest  how  in  the  atmosphere  collects 
That  vapour  dank,  returning  into  water. 
Soon  as  it  mounts  where  cold  condenses  it. 
That  evil  will,  which  in  his  intellect  110 

Still  follows  evil,  cime,  and  rais'd  the  wind 
And  smoky  mist,  by  virtue  of  the  power 
Griv'u  by  his  nature.     Thence  the  valley,  soon 
As  day  was  spent,  he  covered  o'er  with  cloud 


138  PUKGATOKY. 

From  Pratoirino'iio  to  llie  niouiitain  range,  115 

And  stretcli'd  tho  sky  above,  so  lliat  tlie  air 

Iin])rt'giiale  cliaiig'd  to  water.     Fell  the  rain. 

And  to  the  fosses  eanie  all  that  the  land 

Contain'd  not;  and,  as  mightiest  streams  are  wont, 

To  the  great  river  with  such  headlong  sweep  I'JO 

Kusli'd,   that   nought   stay'd   its   course.      My   stift'euM 

frame 
Laid  at  liis  mouth  the  fell  Archiano  found. 
And  dash'd  it  into  Arno,  from  my  breast 
Loos'ning  the  cross,  that  of  myself  I  made 
When  overcome  witli  j^ain.     He  luirl'd  me  on,  125 

Along  the  banks  and  bottom  of  his  course  ; 
Then  in  his  muddy  spoils  encircling  wraj)t." 

"  Ah  !  when  thou  to  the  world  shalt  be  return'd, 
And  rested  after  thy  long  road,"  so  spake 
Next  the  third  spirit ;  "  then  remember  me.  130 

I  once  was  Pia.     Sienna  gave  me  life, 
Maremma  took  it  from  me.     That  he  knows. 
Who  me  with  jewell'd  ring  had  first  espous'd." 


CANTO  VI. 

When  from  their  game  of  dice  men  separate, 

He,  who  hath  lost,  remains  in  sadness  fix'd, 

devolving  in  his  mind,  what  luckless  throws 

He  cast:  but  meanwhile  all  the  comjiany 

Go  with  the  other;  one  before  him  runs,  5 

And  one  behind  his  mantle  twitches,  one 

Fast  by  his  side  bids  him  remember  him. 

He  stops  not;  and  each  one,  to  whom  his  hand 

Is  stretcli'd,  well  knows  he  bids  him  stand  aside*, 

And  thus  he  from  the  press  defends  himself,  10 

E'en  such  was  I  in  that  close-crowding  throng; 

And  turning  so  my  face  around  to  all. 

And  promising,  I  'scap'd  from  it  with  jjains. 

Here  of  Arezzo  him  I  saw,  who  fell 
By  Ghino's  cruel  arm  ;  and  him  beside,  15 

Who  in  his  chase  was  swallow'd  by  the  stream. 


PURr.ATOllY.  130 

llei-c  Frederic  Novc'llo,  with  liis  liand 

Stretcli'd  forth,  entreated  ;  and  of  Pisa  ho, 

Who  put  tlie  good  Mar/.uco  to  such  proof 

Of  constancy.     Count  Orso  I  helield  ;  20 

And  from  its  frame  a  soul  dismiss'd  for  spite 

And  envy,  as  it  said,  but  for  no  crime  : 

I  speak  of  Peter  de  h^  Brosse ;  and  here. 

While  she  yet  lives,  that  Lady  of  ]>ral)ant 

Let  her  beware  ;  lest  for  so  false  a  deed  25 

She  herd  with  worse  than  these.     When  I  was  freed 

From  all  those  spirits,  who  pray'd  for  others'  prayers 

To  hasten  on  their  state  of  blessedness  ; 

Straight  I  began  :  "  O  thou,  my  luminary  ! 

It  seems  expressly  in  thy  text  denied,  30 

That  heaven's  supreme  decree  can  never  bend 

To  supplication  ;  yet  with  this  design 

Do  these  entreat.     Can  then  tlieir  hope  be  vain, 

Or  is  thy  saying  not  to  me  reveal'd  ?  " 

lie  thus  to  me  :  "  Both  what  I  write  is  plain,  35 

And  these  deceiv'd  not  in  their  hope,  if  well 
Thy  mind  consider,  that  the  sacred  height 
Of  judgment  doth  not  stoop,  because  love's  flame 
In  a  short  moment  all  fulfils,  which  he 
Who  sojourns  Jiere,  in  right  should  satisfy.  40 

Besides,  when  I  this  point  concluded  thus. 
By  praying  no  defect  could  be  supplied  ; 
Because  the  pray'r  had  none  access  to  God. 
Yet  in  this  deep  suspicion  rest  thou  not 
Contented  unless  she  assure  thee  so,  45 

Who  betwixt  truth  and  mind  infuses  light. 
I  know  not  if  thou  take  me  right ;  I  mean 
Beatrice.     Her  thou  shalt  behold  above. 
Upon  this  mountain's  crown,  fair  seat  of  joy." 

Then  I :  "  Sir  !  let  us  mend  our  speed  ;  for  now  50 

I  tire  not  as  before ;  and  lo  !  the  hill 
Stretches  its  shadow  far."     He  answer'd  thus  : 
"  Our  progress  with  this  day  shall  be  as  much 
As  we  may  now  dispatch  ;  but  otherwise 
Than  thou  supposest  is  the  truth.     For  there  55 

Thou  canst  not  be,  ere  tliou  <mce  more  beliold 


140  TURGATORV. 

Him  back  rotuniini?,  wlio  beliiiid  tlie  steep 

Is  now  so  hidden,  tliat  as  erst  liis  benm 

Tliou  dost  not  break.     But  lo  !  a  s]»irit  there 

Stands  solitary,  and  toward  us  looks :  CO 

It  will  instruct  us  in  the  s})cediest  way." 

We  soon  approach'd  it.     O  thou  Lombard  s])irit ! 
How  didst  thou  stand,  in  high  abstracted  mood, 
Scarce  moving  with  slow  dignity  thine  eyes  ! 
It  spoke  not  aught,  but  let  us  onM'ard  pass,  65  | 

Eyeing  us  as  a  lion  on  his  watch. 

But  Virgil  with  entreaty  mild  advanc'd,  | 

Requesting  it  to  show  the  best  ascent. 

It  answer  to  his  question  none  return'd,  j 

But  of  our  country  and  our  kind  of  life  70 

Demanded.     When  my  courteous  guide  began, 
"  Mantua,"  the  solitary  shadow  quick  1 

Rose  tow'rds  us  from  the  place  in  which  it  stood,  } 

And  cry'd,  "  Mantuan  !  I  am  thy  countryman  I 

Sordello."     Each  the  other  then  embrac'd.  75 

I'^^Ali  slavish  Italy  !  thou  inn  of  grief, 

I  Vessel  without  a  pilot  in  loud  storm, 

I  Lady  no  longer  of  fair  provinces, 

I  But  brothel-house  impure  !  this  gentle  spirit, 

I  Ev'n  from  tlie  jJeasant  sound  of  his  dear  l»nd  80 

I  Was  prompt  to  greet  a  felloAV  citizen 

I  With  such  glad  cheer ;  while  now  thy  living  ones 

I  In  thee  abide  not  without  war;  and  one 
Malicious  gnaws  another,  ay  of  those 
Whom  the  same  wall  and  the  same  moat  contains.        85 
I  Seek,  wretched  one !  around  thy  sea-coasts  wide  ; 
Then  homeward  to  thy  bosom  turn,  and  mark 
If  any  part  of  the  sweet  peace  enjoy. 
i  What  boots  it,  that  thy  reins  Justinian's  hand 
Refitted,  if  thy  saddle  be  unpress'd  ?  90 

Nought  doth  he  now  but  aggravate  thy  shame. 
Ah  people  !  thou  obedient  still  shoiddst  live, 
And  in  the  saddle  let  thy  Coesar  sit. 
If  well  thou  marked'st  that  which  God  commands. 

Look  how  that  beast  to  felness  hath  relaps'd  95 

From  having  lost  coi-rection  of  the  spur, 


-|_. 


ruui;ATORY.  141 

Since  to  tlio  bridle  thou  liast  set  th'ino  hand, 

O  German  Albert !  wlio  abandon'st  her, 

That  is  grown  savage  and  unnianaoe;il)le, 

When  thou  should'st  clasji  her  ilanks  with  forked  Jieels. 

Just  judgment  from  the  stars  fall  on  thy  blood  !  101 

And  be  it  strange  and  manifest  to  all  ! 

Such  as  may  strike  tliy  successor  with  dread  ! 

For  tliat  thy  sire  and  thou  have  suffered  tluis, 

Throirgh  greediness  of  yonder  realms  detain'd,  105 

The  garden  of  the  empire  to  run  waste. 

Come  see  the  Capulets  and  Montagues, 

The  Philippeschi  and  Monaldi !  man 

Who  car'st  for  nought !  those  sunk  in  grief,  and  these 

With  dire  suspicion  rack'd.     Come,  cruel  one  !  110    \ 

Come  and  beliold  the'  oppression  of  the  nobles,  \ 

And  mark  their  injuries  :  and  thou  mayst  see,  | 

What  safet}'  Santahore  cm  sujiply.  j 

Come  and  behold  thy  Tiome,  who  calls  on  thee,  I 

Desolate  widow  !   day  and  night  with  moans  :  115    ? 

"My  Cresar,  why  dost  thou  desert  my  side?"  5 

Come  and  behold  what  love  among  thy  people:  ] 

And  if  no  pity  touclics  thee  for  us. 

Come  and  blush  for  thine  own  report.     For  me, 

If  it  be  lawful,  0  Almighty  Power,  120    i 

Who  wast  in  earth  for  our  sakes  crucified  !  I 

Are  thy  just  eyes  turn'd  elsewdiere  ?  or  is  this  | 

A  preparation  in  the  wond'rous  depth  i 

Of  thy  sage  counsel  made,  for  some  good  end, 

Entirely  from  our  reach  of  tliought  cut  off?  125 

So  are  the'  Italian  cities  all  o'erthrong'd 

With  tyrants,  and  a  great  Marcellus  made 

Of  every  petty  factious  villager.  ; 

My  Florence!  thou  mayst  well  remain  unmov'd 
At  this  digression,  which  affects  not  thee  :  loO 

Thanks  to  thy  peojile,  who  so  wisely  speed.  \ 

Many  have  justice  in  their  lieart,  that  long  | 

Waiteth  for  counsel  to  direct  the  bow,  | 

Or  ere  it  dart  unto  its  aim  :  but  thine  j 

Have  it  on  their  lip's  edge.     Many  refuse  135 

To  bear  the  common  burdens  :  readier  thine 


142  PURGATORY. 

Answer  uncall'd,  and  cry.     "  Behold  I  stoop  !  " 
Make  thyself  glad,  for  thou  hast  reason  now, 
Thou  wealthy!  fhou  at  peace!  thou  wisdom-fraught! 
Facts  best  witness  if  I  speak  the  truth.  140 

Athens  and  Lacedicmon,  who  of  old 
Enacted  laws,  for  civil  arts  renown'd. 
Made  little  progress  in  improving  life 
Tow'rds  thee,  who  usest  such  nice  subtlety, 
That  to  the  middle  of  November  scarce  145 

Reaches  the  thread  thou  in  October  weav'st. 
Plow  many  times,  within  thy  memory, 
Customs,  and  laws,  and  coins,  and  offices 
Have  been  by  thee  renew'd,  and  people  chang'd  ! 

If  thou  remember'st  well  and  can'st  see  clear,  150 

Thou  wilt  perceive  thyself  like  a  sick  wretch. 
Who  finds  no  rest  upon  her  down,  but  oft 
Shifting  her  side,  short  respite  seeks  from  pain. 


CANTO  YII. 

After  their  courteous  greetings  joyfully 

Sev'n  times  exchang'd,  Sordello  backward  drew 

Exclaiming,  "  Who  are  ye?"     "  Before  this  mount 

By  spirits  worthy  of  ascent  to  God 

Was  sought,  ray  bones  had  by  Octavius'  care  5 

Been  buried.     I  am  Virgil,  for  no  sin 

Depriv'd  of  heav'n,  excei>t  for  lack  of  faith." 

So  answer'd  him  in  few  my  gentle  guide. 

As  one,  who  aught  before  him  suddenly 
Beholding,  whence  his  wonder  riseth,  cries  10 

"  It  is  yet  is  not,"  wav'ring  in  belief; 
Such  he  appear'd ;  then  downward  bent  his  eyes. 
And  drawing  near  witli  revei'ential  step, 
Cauglit  him,  where  of  mean  estate  might  clasp 
His  "lord.     "  Glory  of  Latium  !  "  he  exelaim'd,  15 

"  In  whom  our  tcnigue  its  utmost  jiower  display'd! 
Boast  of  my  honor'd  birth-place  !  what  desert 
Of  mine,  what  favour  rather  undeservVl, 
Shows  thee  to  me  V     If  I  to  hear  that  voice 


PUKGATOKY.  143 

Am  worthy,  say  if  from  below  tliou  com'st  "20 

And  from  what  cloister's  pale?  " — "  Tiirough  every  orb 

Of  that  sad  region,"  he  rejdy'd,  "  thus  far 

Am  I  arriv'd,  by  heav'uly  iiiilueuce  led 

And  witli  such  aid  I  come.     There  is  a  jilace 

There  underneath,  not  made  by  torments  sad,  25 

But  by  dun  shades  alone;  where  mourning's  voice 

Sounds  not  of  anguish  sharp,  but  breathes  in  sighs 

There  I  -with  little  innocents  abide, 

Who  by  death's  fangs  were  bitten,  ere  exempt 

From  liuman  taint.     There  I  with  those  abide,  30 

Who  the  three  holy  virtues  put  not  on, 

But  understood  the  rest,  and  without  blame 

Follow'd  them  all.     But  if  thcu  know'st  and  canst, 

Direct  us,  how  we  soonest  may  arrive. 

Where  Purgatory'  its  true  beginning  takes."  35 

He  answer'd  thus  :  "  We  have  no  certain  place 
Assign'd  us  :  upwards  I  may  go  or  round, 
Far  as  I  can,  I  join  thee  for  thy  guide. 
But  thou  beholdest  now  how  day  declines  : 
And  upwards  to  proceed  by  night,  our  power  40 

Excels  :  therefore  it  may  be  well  to  choose 
A  place  of  pleasant  sojourn.     To  the  right 
Some  spirits  sit  apart  i-etir'd.     If  thou 
Consentest,  I  to  these  will  lead  thy  steps  : 
And  thou  wilt  know  them,  not  without  delight."  45 

"  How  chances  this?"  was  answer'd  ;  "  whoso  wish'd 
To'  ascend  by  night,  would  he  be  thence  debarr'd 
By  other,  or  through  his  own  weakness  fail  ?  " 

The  good  Sordello  then,  along  the  ground 
Trailing  his  finger,  spoke  :  "  Only  this  line  50 

Thou  shalt  not  overpass,  soon  as  the  sun 
Hath  disa2:)pear'd  ;  not  that  aught  else  imj»edes 
Thy  going  upwards,  save  the  shades  of  night. 
These  with  the  wont  of  power  perplex  the  will. 
With  them  thou  haply  mightst  return  beneath,  55 

Or  to  and  fro  around  the  mountain's  side 
Wander,  while  day  is  in  the  horizon  shut." 

My  master  straight,  as  wond'ring  at  his  speech, 
Exclaim'd  :  "  Then  lead  us  quickly,  where  thou  sayst. 


141:  puui;atouv.  | 

That,  wliile  wc  stay,  we  may  criioy  dcHixlit."  60    t 

A  little  space  we  were  removM  from  thence,  ? 

When  I  percoivM  the  mountain  hoIlouM  out.  I 

Ev'n  as  largo  ^-alleys  hollow'd  out  on  eavth,  j 

"  That  way,"  the'  escorting  s|)irit  cried,  "  we  go, 
Whore  in  a  bosom  the  high  hank  recedes  :  05     i 

And  thou  await  renewal  of  the  day."  | 

Betwixt  the  steep  and  ])lain  a  crooked  path 
Led  us  traverse  into  the  ridge's  side,  8 

Where  more  than  half  tlie  sloping  edge  expires.  ': 

Refulgent  gold,  and  silver  thrice  refin'd,  70     = 

And  scarlet  grain  and  ceruse,  Indian  wood  •; 

Of  lucid  dye  serene,  fresh  emeralds  j 

But  newly  broken,  by  the  herbs  and  flowers  I 

Plac'd  in  that  fair  recess,  in  color  all 

Had  been  surpass'd,  as  great  surpasses  less.  75 

Nor  nature  only  there  lavish'd  her  hues. 
But  of  the  sweetness  of  a  thousand  smells 
A  rare  and  undistinguish'd  fragrance  made. 

"  Salve  Kegina,"  on  the  grass  and  flowers 
Here  chanting  I  beheld  those  spirits  sit  80     J 

Who  not  beyond  the  valley  could  be  seen.  | 

"Before  the  west'ring  sun  sink  to  his  bed,"  ] 

Began  the  Mantuan,  M'ho  our  steps  had  turn'd,  t 

"  'Mid  those  desires  not  that  I  lead  ye  on,  ; 

For  from  this  eminence  ye  shall  discern  85      ! 

Better  the  acts  and  visages  of  all,  i 

Than  in  the  nether  vale  among  them  mix'd.  \ 

He,  who  sits  high  above  the  rest,  and  seems  j 

To  have  neglected  that  he  should  have  done,  ' 

And  to  the  others'  song  moves  not  his  liji,  90 

The  Emperor  Ivodol|)h  call,  who  might  have  heal'd  i 

The  wounds  whei'eof  fair  Italy  haJi  died,  j 

So  that  by  others  she  revives  but  slowly. 
Pie,  who  with  kindly  visage  comforts  him,  | 

Sway'd  in  that  country,  where  the  water  s])rings,  95      \ 

That  Moldaw's  river  to  the  Elbe,  and  Elbe 
Rolls  to  the  ocean  :  Ottocar  his  name  : 
Who  in  .his  swaddling  clothes  was  of  more  worth 
Than  Winccslaus  his  son,  a  bearded  man, 


PURGATORY.  Hf) 

P;iin))('rM  with  runk  luxuriousncss  and  case.  100 

And  liiat  one  with  the  nose  deprest,  who  close 
In  counsel  scoins  with  him  of  LCcntle  look, 
Flying  expir'd,  with'riiig  tlie  lily's  rlower. 
Look  there  how  he  doth  knock  against  his  breast ! 
The  other  ye  behold,  Avho  for  his  cheek  1(*5 

Makes  of  one  hand  a  couch,  with  frequent  sighs. 
They  are  the  father  and  the  fsither-in-law 
Of  Gallia's  bane:  his  vicious  life  they  know 
And  foul ;    thence    conies    the   grief   that   rends    them 
thus, 

"  He,  so  robust  of  limb,  who  measure  keeps  110 

In  song,  with  him  of  feature  prominent, 
With  ev'ry  virtue  bore  his  girdle  brac'd. 
And  if  that  strijiling  who  behinds  him  sits, 
King  after  him  had  liv'd,  his  virtue  then 
From  vessel  to  like  vessel  had  been  jiuur'd  ;  115 

Which  may  not  of  the  other  heirs  be  said. 
V>y  James  and  Frederick  his  realms  are  held  ; 
Neither  the  better  heritage  obtains, 
llarely  into  the  l)ran<'hes  of  the  tree 

Doth  human  worth  mount  up  ;  and  so  ordains  120 

He  who  bestows  it,  that  as  his  free  gift 
It  may  be  call'd.     To  Charles  my  words  apply 
No  less  than  to  his  brother  in  the  song ; 
Which  Pouille  and  Provence  now  witli  grief  confess. 
So  much  that  plant  degenerates  from  its  seed,  125 

As  more  than  Beatrice  and  Margaret 
Costanza  still  boasts  of  her  valorous  s]iouse. 

"  Behold  the  king  of  sim]/ie  life  and  plain, 
Harry  of  England,  sitting  there  alone  : 
He  through  his  branches  better  issue  spreads.  130 

"  That  one,  who  on  the  ground  beneath  the  rest 
Sits  lowest,  yet  his  gaze  directs  aloft. 
Is  William,  that  brave  IMarcpiis,  for  whose  cause 
The  deed  of  Alexandria  and  his  war 
Makes  Conferrat  and  Canavese  weep."  135 

10 


146  rcr:fiAT<)RV, 

CANTO  VIII. 

Now  was  the  lioiir  tliat  wakens  fond  dosire 

In  men  at  sea,  and  melts  their  thouijlitful  lieart, 

Who  in  the  morn  have  bid  sweet  friends  farewell, 

And  ])ilu'rim  newly  on  his  road  with  love 

Thrills,  if  he  hear  the  vesjK'r  bell  from  far,  5 

That  seems  to  mourn  for  the  expiring  day  : 

When  I,  no  longer  taking  heed  to  hear. 

Began,  with  wonder,  from  those  spirits  to  mark 

One  risen  from  its  seat,  Avhich  with  its  hand 

Audience  implor'd.     Both  ])alins  it  join'd  and  rais'd,    10 

Fixing  its  steadfast  gaze  towards  the  east, 

As  telling  God,  "  I  care  for  naught  beside." 

"  Te  Lucis  Ante,"  so  devoutly  then 
Came  from  its  lip,  and  in  so  soft  a  strain, 
That  all  my  sense  in  ravishment  was  lost.  15 

And  the  rest  after,  softly  and  devout, 
Follow'd  through  all  the  hymn,  with  upward  gaze 
Directed  to  the  bright  supernal  wheels. 

Here,  reader!  for  the  truth  makes  thine  eyes  keen  : 
For  of  so  subtle  texture  is  this  veil,  20 

That  thou  with  ease  mayst  pass  it  through  unmark'd, 

I  saw  that  gentle  band  silently  next 
Look  up,  as  if  in  expectation  held. 
Pale  and  in  lowly  guise  ;  and  from  on  high 
I  saw  forth  issuing  descend  beneath  25 

Two  angels  with  two  flame-illumin'd  swords, 
Broken  and  mutilated  at  their  points. 
Green  as  the  tender  leaves  but  newly  born. 
Their  vesture  was,  the  which  by  wings  as  green 
Beaten,  they  drew  behind  them,  fann'd  iu  air.  30 

A  little  over  iis  one  took  his  stand. 
The  other  lighted  on  the'  opposing  hill. 
So  that  the  troop  were  in  the  midst  contain'd. 

Well  I  descried  the  whiteness  on  their  heads  ; 
But  in  their  visages  the  dazzled  eye  35 

Was  lost,  as  faculty  that  by  too  much 
Is  overpower'd.     "  Fi-om  INfary's  bosom  both 
Are  come,"  exclaim'd  Sordello,  "as  a  guard 


PURGATORY. 


147 


Ovei'  the  vnlo,  gniiist  liiin,  wlio  liithcr  tends, 

Tlie  seriient."     Wlicnce,  not  knowinu;  by  wliich  [lutli    40 

lie  cnme,  I  tuvn'd  nie  round,  and  closely  2)ress'd, 

All  frozen,  to  my  leader's  trusted  side. 

Sordello  paus'd  not:  "To  the  valley  now 
(For  it  is  time)  let  us  descend  ;  and  hold 
Converse  with  those  great  shadows  :  hajily  mneh  45 

Their  sight  may  please  ye."     Only  three  steps  down 
]Methinks  I  measur'd,  ere  I  was  beneath. 
And  noted  one  who  look'd  as  Avith  desire 
To  know  me.     Time  was  now  that  air  grew  dim ; 
Yet  not  so  dim,  that  'twixt  his  eyes  and  mine  50 

It  clear'd  not  up  what  was  conceal'd  before. 
Mutually  tow'rds  each  other  we  advanc'd. 
Nino,  thou  courteous  judge  !  what  joy  I  felt, 
When  I  perceiv'd  thou  wert  not  with  the  bad! 

No  salutation  kind  on  either  part  55 

Was  left  unsaid.     Tie  then  inqnir'd  :  "  How  long 
Since  thou  arrived'st  at  the  mountain's  foot, 
Over  the  distant  waves  ?" — "  O  !  "  answer'd  I, 
"  Through  the  sad  seats  of  woe  this  morn  I  came, 
And  still  in  my  first  life,  thus  journeying  on,  GO 

The  other  strive  to  gain."     Soon  as  they  heard 
]My  words,  he  and  Sordello  backward  drew, 
As  suddenly  amaz'd.     To  Virgil  one, 
The  other  to  a  spirit  turn'd,  who  near 
Was  seated,  crying :  "  Conrad !  up  with  sjieed  :  65 

Come,  see  what  of  his  grace  high  God  hath  will'd." 
Then  turning  round  to  me  :  "  By  that  rare  mark 
Of  honour  whicli  thou  ow'st  to  him,  who  hides 
So  deeply  his  first  cause,  it  hath  no  ford. 
When  thou  shalt  be  beyond  the  vast  of  waves.  70 

Tell  my  Giovanna,  that  for  me  she  call 
There,  where  reply  to  innocence  is  made. 
Her  mother,  I  believe,  loves  me  no  more  ; 
Since  she  has  chang'd  the  white  and  whimpled  folds, 
Which  she  is  doom'd  once  more  with  grief  to  wish.       75 
By  her  it  easily  may  be  j^erceiv'd. 
How  long  in  woman  lasts  the  flame  of  love, 
If  sight  and  touch  do  not  rehime  it  oft. 


148  PURGATORY. 

For  her  so  fair  n  biii-ial  will  not  make 

The  viper  Avhich  calls  Mibui  to  the  liehl,  80 

As  liad  been  made  by  shrill  Gallura's  bird." 

T[e  spoke,  and  in  his  visa2;e  took  the  stamp 
Of  that  right  seal,  which  with  due  temperature 
Glows  in  the  bosom.     My  insatiate  eyes 
Meanwhile  to  heav'n  had  travel'd,  even  there  85 

Where  tlie  brit^'ht  stars  are  slowest,  as  a  Avheel 
Nearest  the  axle  ;  when  my  guide  inquir'd  : 
"What  there  ah_)ft,  my  son,  has  caught  thy  gaze  ?  " 

I  answer'd:  "The  three  torches,  with  which  here 
The  pole  is  all  on  fire."     He  then  to  me  :  90 

"  The  four  resplendent  stars,  thou  saw'st  this  morn 
Are  there  beneath,  and  these  ris'n  in  their  stead." 

While  yet  he  spoke,  Sordello  to  himself 
Drew  him,  and  cry'd  :  "  Lo  there  our  enemy !  " 
And  with  his  hand  ])ointed  that  way  to  look.  95 

Along  the  side,  where  barrier  none  arose 
Around  the  little  vale,  a  serpent  lay. 
Such  haply  as  gave  Eve  the  bitter  food. 
Between  the  grass  and  flowers,  the  evil  snake 
Came  on,  reverting  oft  his  lifted  head  ;  100 

And,  as  a  beast  that  smooths  its  polish'd  coat, 
Licking  his  back.     I  saw  not,  nor  can  tell, 
How  those  celestial  falcons  from  their  seat 
Mov'd,  but  in  motion  each  one  vv'ell  descried, 
Hearing  the  air  cut  by  their  verdant  plumes.  105 

The  serpent  fled  ;  and  to  their  stations  back 
The  angels  up  return'd  with  equal  flight. 

The  spirit  (who  to  Nino,  when  he  call'd. 
Had  come),  from  viewing  me  with  fixed  ken, 
Through  all  that  conflict,  loosen'd  not  his  sight.  110 

"  So  may  the  lamp,  which  leads  thee  up  on  high,  j 

Find,  in  thy  destin'd  lot,  of  wax  so  much. 
As  may  suffice  thee  to  the  enamel's  height." 
It  thus  began  :  "  If  any  certain  news 
Of  Valdimagra  and  the  neighbour  part  115 

Tliou  know'st,  tell  me,  who  once  was  mighty  there. 
They  call'd  me  Conrad  Malasinna,  not 
That  old  one,  but  from  him  I  si)rang.     The  love 


PURGATORY.  149 

I  l)oro  my  people  is  now  lierc  rofiiiM." 

"  In  your  dominions,"  I  answer'd,  "  ne'er  was  I.        120 
But  througli  aH  Europe  wliere  do  those  men  dwell, 
To  whom  their  glory  is  not  manifest  ? 
The  fame,  that  honours  your  illustrious  house, 
Proclaims  the  nobles  and  proclaims  the  land  ; 
So  tliat  he  knows  it  who  was  never  there.  125 

I  swear  to  you,  so  may  my  upward  route 
Prosper !  your  honour'd  nation  not  impairs 
The  value  of  her  coffer  and  her  sword. 
Nature  and  use  giA^e  her  such  privilege, 
That  while  the  world  is  twisted  from  his  course  130 

By  a  had  head,  slie  only  walks  aright, 
And  has  the  evil  way  in  scorn."     lie  then  : 
"Now  pass  thee  on  :  sev'n  times  the  tired  sun 
Revisits  not  the  couch,  which  with  four  feet 
The  forked  Aries  covers,  ere  that  kind  135 

0])iniou  shall  he  nail'd  into  thy  brain 
With  stronger  nails  tlian  other's  speech  can  drive, 
If  the  sure  course  of  judgment  be  not  stay'd." 

CANTO  IX 

Now  the  fair  consort  of  Tithonus  old, 

Arisen  from  her  mate's  beloved  arms, 

Look'd  ])alely  o'er  the  eastern  cliff  :  her  brow, 

Lucent  with  jewels,  glitter'd,  set  in  sign 

Of  that  chill  animal,  who  Avith  his  train  5 

Smites  fearful  nations  :  and  where  then  we  Avero, 

Two  steps  of  her  ascent  the  night  had  past. 

And  now  the  third  Avas  closing  up  its  wing. 

When  I,  Avho  had  so  much  of  Adam  Avith  me,- 

Sank  down  upon  the  grass,  o'ercome  with  sleep,  10 

There  Avhere  all  five  were  seated.     In  that  hour, 

When  near  the  dawn  the  swallow  her  sad  lay, 

Kememb'iing  haply  ancient  grief,  renews. 

And  with  our  minds  more  wand'rers  from  the  flesh, 

And  less  by  tliought  restrain'd,  are,  as  't  Avere,  full         15       ^ 

Of  holy  divination  in  their  dreams,  i 

Then  in  a  vision  did  I  seem  to  view 


150  PURr.ATORY. 

A  sxolden-feritlierM  oaijlo  in  tlie  sky, 

AVitli  ()])cn  winsi's,  nii<l  liov'rincf  for  descent, 

And  1  was  in  tlmt  place,  metlionglit,  from  whence  20 

Young  Ganymede,  from  Ids  associates  'reft, 

Was  snatcli'd  aloft  to  the  higli  consistory, 

"  Perhaps,"  thought  I  within  me,  "here  alone 

He  strikes  his  quarry,  and  elsewhere  disdains 

To  ])Ounce  npon  the  prey."     Therewitli,  it  seem'd,         25 

A  little  -wheeling  in  Ids  airy  tour 

Terrible  as  the  lightning  rush'd  he  down. 

And  snatcli'd  me  upward  even  to  the  fire. 

There  both,  I  thought,  the  eagle  and  myself 

Di<l  burn  ;  and  so  intense  th'  imagin'd  flames,  30 

That  needs  my  sleep  was  broken  off.     As  erst 

Achilles  shook  himself,  and  round  him  roll'd 

Plis  waken'd  eyeballs  wond'ring  where  he  was, 

Whenas  his  mother  had  from  Chiron  fled 

To  Scyros,  with  him  sleeping  in  her  arms  ;  35 

E'en  thus  I  shook  me,  soon  as  from  my  face 

The  slumber  parted,  turning  deadly  pale, 

Like  one  ice-struck  with  dread.     Sole  at  my  side 

My  comfort  stood  :  and  the  bright  sun  was  now 

More  than  two  hours  aloft :  and  to  the  sea  40 

My  looks  -were  turn'd.     "  Fear  not,"  my  master  cried, 

"  Assur'd  we  are  at  happy  point.     Thy  strength 

Shriidv  not,  but  rise  dilated.     Thou  art  come 

To  Purgatory  now.     Lo  !  there  the  cliff 

That  circling  bounds  it !     Lo  !  the  entrance  there,  45 

Where  it  doth  seem  disparted  !     Ere  the  dawn 

Usher'd  the  daylight,  when  thy  wearied  soul 

Sle]it  in  thee,  o'er  the  flowery  vale  beneath 

A  lady  came,  and  thus  bespake  me  :  'I 

Am  Lucia.     Suffer  me  to  take  this  man,  50 

Who  slumbers.     Easier  so  his  way  shall  speed.' 

Sordello  and  the  other  gentle  shapes 

Tarrying,  she  bare  thee  up :  and,  as  day  shone, 

This  summit  reach'd  ;  and  I  pursued  her  steps. 

Here  did  she  place  thee.     First  her  lovely  eyes  55 

That  open  entrance  show'd  me  ;  tlien  at  once 

She  vanisli'd  with  thy  sleep."     Like  one,  whose  doubts 


PURGATORY,  151 

Arc  chas'd  by  certainty,  and  terror  tiirn'd 

To  comfort  on  discovery  of  tlie  trutli, 

Such  was  the  change  in  me  :  and  as  my  guide  60 

Beheld  me  fearless,  up  along  the  cliff 

He  mov'd,  and  I  behind  him,  towards  the  height. 

Reader  !  thou  markest  how  my  tlieme  doth  rise, 
Nor  wonder  therefore,  if  more  artfully 
I  prop  the  structure  !     Nearer  now  we  drew,  65 

Arriv'd,  whence  in  that  part,  where  first  a  breach 
As  of  a  wall  a]>])ear'd,  I  could  descry 
A  portal,  and  three  steps  beneath,  that  led 
For  inlet  there,  of  different  colour  each, 
And  one  who  watch'd,  but  spake  not  yet  a  word.  70 

As  more  and  more  mine  eye  did  stretch  its  view, 
I  mark'd  him  seated  on  the  highest  step. 
In  visage  such,  as  past  my  power  to  bear. 
GrasjVd  in  his  hand  a  naked  sword,  glanc'd  back 
The  rays  so  toward  me,  that  I  oft  in  vain  75 

My  sight  directed.  "  Speak  from  whence  ye  stand  :  " 
He  cried  :  "  What  would  ye?  Where  is  your  escort? 
Take  heed  your  coming  upward  harm  ye  not." 

"  A  heavenly  dame,  not  skilless  of  these  things," 
Replied  the'  instructor,  "  iMcl  us,  even  now,  80 

'  Pass  that  way :  here  the  gate  is.'" — "And  may  she 
Befriending  prosper  your  ascent,"  resum'd 
The  courteous  keeper  of  the  gate  :  "  Come  then 
Before  our  steps."     We  straightway  thither  came. 

The  lowest  stair  Avas  marble  white,  so  smooth  85 

And  polish'd,  that  therein  my  mirror'd  form 
Distinct  I  saw.     Tlie  next  of  hue  more  dark 
Tlian  sablest  grain,  a  rough  and  singed  block, 
Crack'd  lengthwise  and  across.     The  third,  that  lay 
Massy  above,  seem'd  porphyry,  that  flam'd  90 

Red  as  the  life-blood  sjiouting  from  a  vein. 
On  this  God's  angel  either  foot  sustain'd, 
Upon  the  threshold  seated,  which  appear'd 
A  rock  of  diamond.     Up  the  trinal  steps 
My  leader  chcerly  drew  me.     "  Ask,"  said  he,  95 

"  With  humble  heart,  that  he  unbar  the  bolt." 

Piously  at  his  holy  feet  devolv'd 


lo2  PURiiATOUV. 

I  cast  mo,  pniyinG^  liim  for  pity's  sake 

Tliut  lie  would  open  to  me  :  Imt  tii'st  fell 

Thrice  o)i  my  Losom  i)rosti-:ite.     Sevoi  limes  100 

'J^iie  letter,  that  denotes  the  inward  staiii, 

lie  on  my  forehead  Mith  the  ])lunted  jioint 

Of  his  drawn  sword  inscrib'd.     And  "  Look,"  he  cried, 

"When  enterVl,  tliat  thou  Mash  tliese  seai\s  away." 

Ashes,  or  earth  ta'en  dry  out  of  the  ground,  105 

Were  of  one  colour  with  the  rohe  he  Avoi-e. 
From  underneath  that  vestment  forth  he  drew 
Two  keys  of  metal  t^-ain  :  the  one  was  gold, 
Its  fellow  silver.     With  the  ])allid  first. 
And  next  the  burnish'd,  he  so  ply'd  the  gate,  110 

As  to  content  me  Avell.     "Whenever  one 
Faileth  of  these,  that  in  the  keyhole  straight 
It  turn  not,  to  this  alley  then  expect 
Access  in  vain."     Such  Avere  the  words  he  s])ake. 
"One  is  more  precious  :  but  the  other  needs  115 

Skill  and  sagacity,  large  share  of  each, 
Ere  its  good  task  to  disengage  the  knot 
lie  worthily  ])erform'd.     From  Peter  these 
I  hold,  of  him  instructed,  that  I  err 

llather  in  opening  than  in  keeflng  fast ;  120 

So  but  the  suppliant  at  my  feet  im])lore." 

Then  of  that  halloAv'd  gate  he  thi-ust  the  door, 
I]xclaiming,  "  Enter,  but  this  warning  hear  : 
IFe  forth  again  de])arts  who  looks  behind." 

As  in  the  hinges  of  that  sacred  ward  125 

The  swivels  turn'd,  sonorous  metal  strong, 
TIarsh  was  the  grating ;  nor  so  surlily 
IJoai-'d  the  Tarpeian,  Avhen  by  force  bereft 
Of  good  Metellus,  thenceforth  from  his  loss 
To  leanness  doom'd.     Attentively  I  turn'd,  130 

List'ning  the  thunder,  that  first  issued  forth  ; 
And  "  We  praise  thee,  O  God,"  methouglit  I  heard 
In  accents  blended  with  sweet  melody. 
""J'lie  strains  came  o'er  mine  ear,  e'en  as  the  sound 
Of  choral  voices,  that  in  solemn  chant  135 

With  organ  mingle,  and,  now  high  and  clear, 
Come  swelling,  now  lloat  indistinct  away. 


PURGATORY.  153 

CANTO  X. 

WiTEX  we  had  passed  the  (hreslioM  of  the  gate 

(Which  tlie  soiil's  ill  affection  doth  disuse, 

Making  the  crooked  seem  the  straighter  path), 

I  lieard  its  closing  sound.     ITad  mine  eyes  turn'd, 

For  that  offence  what  plea  )night  have  avail'd  ?  5 

We  mounted  up  the  riven  rock,  that  wound 
On  either  side  alternate,  as  the  wave 
Flies  and  advances.     "  Here  some  little  art 
Behoves  us,"  said  my  leader,  "  that  our  steps 
Observe  the  varying  flexure  of  the  path."  10 

Thus  Ave  so  slowly  sped,  that  with  cleft  orb 
The  moon  once  more  o'erhangs  her  wat'ry  couch, 
Ere  we  that  strait  have  threaded.     But  when  free 
We  came  and  open,  where  the  mount  above 
One  solid  mass  retires,  I  spent,  with  toil,  15 

And  both,  uncertain  of  the  Avay,  we  stood. 
Upon  a  plain  more  lonesome,  than  the  roads 
That  traverse  desert  wilds.     From  whence  the  brink 
Borders  upon  vacuity,  to  foot 

Of  the  steep  bank,  that  rises  still,  the  space  20 

Had  measur'd  thrice  the  stature  of  a  man  : 
And,  distant  as  mine  eye  could  wing  its  flight, 
To  leftward  now  and  now  to  right  dispatch'd. 
That  cornice  equal  in  extent  aj)pear'd. 

Not  yet  our  feet  had  on  that  summit  mov'd,  25 

When  I  diseover'd  that  the  bank  around, 
Whose  proud  uprising  all  ascent  denied, 
Was  marble  white,  and  so  exactly  wrought 
With  quaintest  sculpture,  that  not  there  alone 
Had  Polycletus,  but  e'en  nature's  self  30 

Bt-'cn  sham'd.     The  angel  (who  came  down  to  earth 
With  tidings  of  the  peace  so  many  years 
Wept  for  in  vain,  that  oped  the  lieavenly  gates 
From  their  long  interdict)  before  us  seera'd, 
In  a  sweet  act,  so  scul])tur'd  to  the  life,  35 

He  look'd  no  silent  image.     One  had  sworn 
He  had  said  "  Hail !  "  for  she  was  imag'd  there, 
By  whom  the  key  did  open  to  God's  love, 


154  PURr.ATORY. 

And  in  her  net  as  Rcnsibly  imprest 

That  word,  "P.eliold  the"handinaid  of  the  Lord,'  40 

As  fig-ure  seal'd  on  wax.     "  Fix  not  thy  mind 

On  one  ])lace  only,"  said  tlie  guide  beh)v'd, 

Who  liad  me  near  liim  on  tliat  })art  where  lies 

The  heart  of  man.     My  siglit  forthwith  I  turn'd 

And  mark'd,  behind  the  virgin  mother's  form,  45 

U]>on  that  side,  where  he,  tliat  mov'd  me,  stood, 

Another  story  graven  on  the  rock. 

I  past  athwart  the  bard,  and  drew  me  near, 
That  it  might  stand  more  aptly  for  my  view. 
There  in  the  self-same  marble  were  engrav'd  60 

The  cart  and  kine,  drawing  the  sacred  ark, 
That  from  unbidden  office  awes  mankind. 
Before  it  came  much  people ;  and  the  whole 
Parted  in  seven  quires.     One  sense  cried  "  Nay," 
Another,  "  Yes,  they  sing."     Like  doubt  arose  55 

Betwixt  the  eye  and  smell,  from  the  curl'd  fume 
Of  incense  breathing  up  the  well-wrought  toil, 
Pi-eceding  the  blest  vessel,  onward  came 
With  light  dance  leaping,  girt  in  humble  guise, 
Sweet  Israel's  harper:  in  that  bap  he  seem'd  60 

Less  and  yet  more  than  kingly.     Opposite, 
At  a  great  ])alace,  from  the  lattice  forth 
Look'd  Michol,  like  a  lady  full  of  scorn 
And  sorrow.     To  behold  the  tablet  next, 
Which  at  the  back  of  JMichol  whitely  shone,  65 

I  mov'd  me.     There  was  storied  on  the  rock 
The'  exalted  glory  of  the  Roman  prince, 
Whose  mighty  worth  mov'd  Gregory  to  earn 
His  mighty  conquest,  Trajan  th'  Emperor. 
A  widow  at  his  bridle  stood,  attir'd  70 

In  tears  and  mourning.     Round  about  them  troop'd 
Full  throng  of  knights,  and  overhead  in  gold 
The  eagles  floated,  struggling  with  the  wind. 
The  wretch  appear'd  amid  all  these  to  say  : 
"  Grant  vengeance,  sire !  for,  woe  beshrew  this  heart ! 
My  son  is  murder'd."     Lie  replying  seem'd ;  75 

"  Wait  now  till  I  return."     And  she,  as  one 
Made  hasty  by  her  grief:  "O  sire,  if  thou 


i 


PUKr.ATOKY.  156 

Dost  not  roturn?" — "  Wliorc  I  nm,  wlio  then  is, 

May  rio-lit  thee." — "  Wliat  to  tliee  is  otlier's  good,  80 

If  thou  neolect  thy  own?" — "Now  comfort  thee," 

At  lengtli  he  answers.     "It  beseenieth  well 

My  duty  he  pcrforni'd,  ere  I  move  hence  : 

So  justice  wills;  and  ]>ity  Lids  me  stay." 

lie,  whose  ken  nothing  new  surveys,  produc'd  85 

That  visible  speaking,  new  to  us  and  strange. 
The  like  not  found  on  earth.     Fondly  I  gaz'cl 
Upon  those  patterns  of  meek  humbleness. 
Shapes  yet  more  precious  for  their  artist's  sake, 
When  "Lo,"  the  jioet  Avhisper'd,  "  wliere  this  way        90 
(But  slack  their  jiace),  a  multitude  advance. 
These  to  the  lofty  steps  shall  guide  us  on." 

Mine  eyes,  though  bent  on  view  of  novel  sights 
Their  lov'd  allurement,  were  not  slow  to  turn. 

Reader!  I  would  not  that  amaz'd  thou  miss  95      I 

Of  thy  good  pui-pose,  hearing  how  just  God 
Decrees  our  debts  be  eancel'd.     Ponder  not  | 

The  form  of  suff'ring.     Think  on  Avhat  succeeds,  | 

Think  that  at  worst  beyond  the  mighty  doom  I 

It  cannot  pass.     "  Instructor,"  I  began,  100      I 

"What  I  see  hither  tending,  bears  no  trace  s 

Of  Imman  semblance,  nor  of  aught  beside  I 

That  my  foil'd  sight  can  guess."     He  answering  thus  :  | 

"  So  courb'd  to  earth,  beneath  their  heavy  teems  I 

Of  torment  stoop  they,  that  mine  eye  at  first  105      \ 

Struggled  as  thine.     But  look  intently  thither, 
And  disentangle  with  thy  lab'ring  view. 
What  underneath  those  stones  approacheth  :  now. 
E'en  now,  may'st  thou  discern  the  pangs  of  each." 

Christians  and  j^roud  !  O  poor  and  wretched  ones  !  110 
That  feeble  in  the  mind's  eye,  lean  your  trust 
Upon  unstaid  perverseness  !     Know  ye  not 
That  we  are  worms,  yet  made  at  last  to  form. 
The  winged  insect,  imp'd  with  angel  plumes 
That  to  heaven's  justice  unobsti-ucted  soars  ?  115 

Why  buoy  ye  up  aloft  your  unfledg'd  souls  ? 
Abortive  then  and  shapeless  ye  remain, 
Like  the  untimely  embryou  of  a  worm ! 


156  runoATORv. 

As,  to  support  iiicmnbeiit  floor  or  roof, 
For  corl)el  is  n  lio-m-e  sometimes  seen,  120 

That  crum])les  up  its  knees  unto  its  breast, 
Willi  tlie  feiti-nM  ])oslure  stirrinjj;  ruth  unfeign'd 
In  the  beholder's  fancy  ;  so  I  saw 
These  fashion'd,  when  I  noted  well  their  guise. 

Each,  as  his  back  was  laden,  came  indeed  125 

Or  more  or  less  contract ;  Ijut  it  appear'd 
As  he,  who  show'd  most  ])atience  in  his  look, 
Wailincf  exclaini'd  :  "  I  can  endure  no  more." 


CANTO  XI. 

"  O  THOU  Almighty  Father,  who  dost  make 

The  heavens  thy  dwelling,  not  in  bounds  confin'd, 

But  that  with  love  intenser  there  thou  vicw'st 

Thy  primal  effluence,  hallow'd  be  thy  name : 

Join  each  created  being  to  extol  5 

Thy  might,  for  worthy  humblest  thanks  and  praise 

Is  thy  blest  Spirit.     May  thy  kingdom's  peace 

Come  unto  us  ;  for  we,  unless  it  come. 

With  all  our  striving  thither  tend  in  vain. 

As  of  their  will  the  angels  unto  thee  10 

Tender  meet  sacrifice,  circling  thy  throne 

With  loud  liosannas,  so  of  theirs  be  done 

By  saintly  men  on  earth.     Grant  us  this  day 

Our  daily  manna,  without  which  he  roams 

Through  this   rough  desert  retrograde,  who  most  '15 

Toils  to  advance  his  steps.     As  we  to  each 

Pardon  the  evil  done  us,  pardon  thou 

Benign,  and  of  our  merit  take  no  count. 

'Gainst  the  old  adversary  prove  thou  not 

Our  virtue  easily  subdu'd  ;  but  free  20 

From  his  incitements  and  defeat  his  wiles. 

This  last  jietition,  dearest  Lord  !  is  made 

Not  for  ourselves,  since  that  were  needless  now, 

But  for  their  sakes  who  after  us  remain." 

Thus  for  themselves  and  us  good  s))eed  imploi-ing,     25 
Those  spirits  went  beneath  a  weight  like  that 


rUKGATORY.  157 

VVe  somctimps  feel  in  d reams,  all,  sovc  beset, 

But  witli  uuoqual  aiio'uisli,  wearied  all, 

Round  til*?  first  circuit,  ])urging,  as  they  go, 

The  wovl'i's  gross  darkness  off.     In  our  behoof  30 

If  thej-o  vows  still  be  offer'd,  what  can  liere 

For  tVi'im  be  vow'd  and  done  by  such,  whose  wills 

Hav.  root  of  goodness  in  them  '?     Well  beseems 

Thi^t  wQ  should  heljD  them  wash  away  tlie  stains 

They  carried  hence,  that  so,  made  ])urc  and  light,  35 

TSiey  may  spring  upward  to  the  starry  S])heres. 

*■'  Ah  !  so  may  mercy-temper'd  justice  rid 
Your  burdens  speedily,  that  ye  have  power 
To  stretch  your  wing,  wliich  e'en  to  your  desire 
Shall  lift  you,  as  ye  show  us  on  which  hand  40 

Toward  the  ladder  leads  the  shortest  way. 
And  if  there  be  more  ])assages  than  one, 
Instruct  us  of  that  easiest  to  ascend ; 
For  this  man  who  comes  with  me,  and  l)ears  yet 
TUe  charge  of  fleshly  raiment  Adam  left  him,  45 

Despite  his  better  will  but  slowly  mounts." 
From  whom  the  answer  came  unto  these  words, 
Which  ray  guide  spake,  appear'd  not ;  but  'twas  said 
"  Along  the  bank  to  rightward  come  Avith  us. 
And  ye  shall  find  a  pass  that  mocks  not  toil  50 

Of  living  man  to  climb  :  and  were  it  not 
That  I  am  hinder'd  by  the  rock,  wherewith 
This  arrogant  neck  is  tam'd,  whence  needs  I  stoop 
My  visage  to  the  ground,  hira,  who  yet  lives. 
Whose  name  thou  speak'st  not  him  I  fain  would 

view,  55 

To  mark  if  e'er  I  knew  hira,  and  to  crave 
His  pity  for  the  fardel  that  I  bear. 
I  was  of  Latiuni,  of  a  Tuscan  born 
A  mighty  one  :  Aldobrandesco's  name 
My  sire's,  I  know  not  if  ye  e'er  have  heard.  60 

My  old  blood  and  forefathers'  gallant  deeds 
Made  me  so  haughty,  that  I  clean  forgot 
Tiie  common  mother,  and  to  such  excess, 
Wax'd  in  ray  scorn  of  all  men,  that  I  fell, 
Fell  therefore  ;  by  what  fate  Sienna's  sons,  65 


158  PUUGATOUY. 

Eucli  cliild  ill  Canipnc^natico,  can  tell. 

I  am  Oinl)orto;  not  mo  only  pride 

Ilatli  injur'd,  but  my  kindred  all  involv'd 

In  mischief  with  her.     Here  my  lot  ordains 

Under  this  weight  to  groan,  till  I  appease  70 

God's  angry  justice,  since  1  did  it  not 

Amongst  the  living,  here  amongst  the  dead." 

List'ning  I  bent  my  visage  down  :  and  one 
(Not  he  who  spake)  twisted  beneath  the  weight 
That  urg'd  him,  saw  me,  knew  me  straight,  and  callM,  75 
Holding  his  eyes  with  difficulty  lix'd 
Intent  upon  me,  stooping  as  I  went 
Companion  of  their  way.     "  O  !  "  I  exclaim'd, 
*'  Art  thou  not  Oderigi,  art  not  thou 

Agobbio's  ijlory,  glory  of  that  art  80 

Which  they  of  Paris  call  the  limner's  skill  ?  " 

"Brother!  "  said  he,  "  with  tints  that  gayer  smile, 
Bolognian  Franco's  pencil  lines  the  leaves. 
His  all  the  honour  now  ;  mine  borrow'd  light. 
In  truth  I  had  not  been  thus  courteous  to  him,  85 

The  whilst  I  liv'd,  through  eagerness  of  zeal 
For  that  pre-eminence  my  heart  was  bent  on. 
Here  of  such  pride  the  forfeiture  is  paid. 
Nor  Avere  I  even  here  ;  if,  able  still 

To  sin,  I  had  not  turn'd  me  unto  God.  90 

O  powers  of  man  !  how  vain  your  glory,  nipp'd 
E'en  in  its  height  of  verdure,  if  an  age 
Less  bright  succeed  not !     Cimabue  thought 
To  lord  it  over  painting's  field  ;  and  now 
The  cry  is  Giotto's,  and  his  name  eclips'd.  95 

Thus  hath  one  Guido  from  the  other  snatch'd 
The  letter'd  prize  :  and  he  perhaps  is  born. 
Who  shall  dri\e  either  from  their  nest.     The  noise 
Of  worldly  fame  is  but  a  blast  of  wind, 
That  blows  from  divers  jjoints,  and  shifts  its  name       100 
Shifting  the  point  it  blows  from.     Shalt  thou  more 
Live  in  the  mouths  of  mankind,  if  thy  flesh 
Part  shrivel'd  from  thee,  than  if  thou  hadst  died, 
Before  the  coral  and  the  pap  were  left. 
Or  ere  some  thousand  years  have  past  ?  and  that  105 


purctAtory  159 

Is,  to  (iternity  comparVl,  a  space, 

Briefer  tlian  is  the  twinklinj^  of  an  eye 

To  tlie  lieaven's  slowest  orb.     lie  tliore  wlio  treads 

So  leisurely  before  me,  far  and  wide 

Throiioh  Tuscany  resounded  once  ;  and  now  110 

Is  in  Sienna  scarce  with  whis])ers  nani'd  : 

There  Avas  he  sov'reign,  when  destruction  caught 

The  madd'ning  rage  of  Florence,  in  that  day 

Proud  as  she  now  is  loathsome.     Your  renown 

Is  as  the  herb,  Avhose  hue  doth  come  and  go,  115 

And  his  might  'withers  it,  by  whom  it  sprang 

Crude  from  the  lap  of  earth."     I  thus  to  him : 

"  True  are  thy  sayings  :  to  my  heart  they  breathe 

The  kindly  spirit  of  meekness,  and  allay 

What  tumours  rankle  there.     But  who  is  he  120 

Of  whom  thou  spak'st  but  now  ?  " — "  This,"  he  replied, 

"  Is  Provenzano.     He  is  here,  because 

He  reach'd,  with  grasp  presumjituous,  at  the  sway 

Of  all  Sienna.     Thus  he  still  hath  gone. 

Thus  goeth  ncA^er-resting,  since  lie  died.  125 

Such  is  th'  acquittance  ronder'd  back  of  him, 

Who,  beyond  measure,  dar'd  on  earth."     I  then  : 

"  If  soul  that  to  the  verge  of  life  delays 

Repentance,  linger  in  that  lower  space, 

Nor  hither  mount,  unless  good  prayers  befriend,  130 

How  chanc'd  admittance  was  vouchsaf'd  to  him  ?  " 

"  When  at  his  glory's  to])most  height,"  said  he, 
"  Respect  of  dignity  all  cast  aside. 
Freely  he  fix'd  him  on  Sienna's  plain, 
A  suitor  to  redeem  his  suff'ring  tViend,  135 

Who  languisli'd  in  the  prison-house  of  Charles, 
Nor  for  his  sake  refus'd  through  every  vein 
To  tremble.     More  I  will  not  say  ;  and  dark, 
I  know,  my  words  are,  but  thy  neighbours  soon 
Shall  help  thee  to  a  comment  on  the  text.  140 

This  is  the  work,  that  from  these  limits  freed  him." 


160  PUKGATORY. 

CANTO  XII. 

With  equal  pace  as  oxen  in  the  yoke, 

I  witli  that  laden  spirit  journey'd  on 

Long  as  the  mihl  instructor  sufferM  me; 

But  wlien  lie  bade  me  quit  him,  and  proceed 

(For  "  here,"  said  he,  "  behoves  witli  sail  and  oars  5 

Each  man,  as  best  he  may,  pusli  on  liis  bark"), 

Ul)rio;ht,  as  one  dispos'd  for  speed,  1  rais'd 

My  body,  still  in  thought  submissive  bow'd. 

I  now  my  leader's  track  not  loth  ])ursued; 
And  each  had  sliown  how  light  we  far'd  along  10 

When    thus    he    warn'd     me :    "  Bend    thine    eyesight 

down : 
For  thou  to  ease  the  way  shall  find  it  good 
To  ruminate  the  bed  beneath  thy  feet." 

As  in  memorial  of  the  buried,  drawn 
Upon  earth-level  tombs,  the  sculptur'd  form  15 

Of  what  was  once,  appears  (at  sight  Avhereof 
Tears  often  stream  forth  by  remembrance  wak'd, 
Whose  sacred  stings  the  piteous  OTily  feel). 
So  saw  I  there,  but  with  more  curious  skill 
Of  portraiture  o'erwrought,  whate'er  of  space  20 

From  forth  the  mountain  stretches.     On  one  i^art 
Him  I  beheld,  above  all  creatures  erst 
Created  noblest,  light'ning  fall  from  heaven  : 
On  th'  other  side  with  bolt  celestial  pierc'd 
Briareus  :  cumb'ring  earth  he  lay  through  dint  25 

Of  mortal  ice-stroke.     The  Thymbrrean  god 
With  Mars,  I  saw,  and  Pallas,  round  their  sire, 
Arm'd  still,  and  gazing  on  the  giant's  Umbs 
Strewn  o'er  th'  ethereal  field.     Nimrod  I  saw : 
At  foot  of  the  stupendous  work  he  stood,  30 

As  if  bewilder'd,  looking  on  the  crowd 
Leagued  in  his  proud  attempt  on  Sennaar's  plain. 

O  Niobe !  in  what  a  trance  of  woe 
Thee  I  beheld,  upon  that  highway  drawn, 
Sev'n  sons  on  either  side  thee  slain  !     O  Saul !  36 

How  ghastly  did-^t  thou  look  !  on  thine  own  sword 
Expiring  in  Gilboa,  from  that  hour 


l*UR<iATORY.  IGl 

Ne'er  visited  witli  v:iin  from  lieav'u  or  dew  ! 

O  fond  Aracline  !  thee  I  also  saw 
ITulf  s])ider  now  in  anguisli  eniwliiicf  uj)  40 

Th'  unfiuish'd  wel)  tliou  weaved'st  to  thy  bane  ! 

0  Kehoboani  !  here  thy  shai)e  doth  seeni 
Louring  no  more  defiance  !  but  fear-smote 
With  none  to  cliase  him  in  his  chariot  whirl'd. 

Was  shown  beside  upon  t!ie  solid  floor  45 

How  dear  Alcmteon  forc'd  his  mother  rate 
That  ornament  in  evil  hour  receiv'd  : 
How  in  the  temple  on  Sennacherib  fell 
His  sons,  and  how  a  corpse  they  left  him  there. 
Was  shown  the  scatli  and  cruel  mangling  made  50 

Bv  Tomvris  on  Cyi'us,  when  she  cried  : 
"  Blood  thou  didsit  thirst  for,  take  thy  fill  of  blood!  " 
Was  shown  how  routed  in  the  battle  fled 
Th'  Assyrians,  Holofernes  slain,  and  e'en 
The  relics  of  the  carnage.     Troy  I  mark'd  65 

In  ashes  and  in  caverns.     Oh  !  how  fall'n, 
How  abject,  Ilion,  -wns  thy  semblance  there  ! 

What  master  of  the  pencil  or  the  style 
Had    trac'd   the    shades    and    lines,  that    might    have 

made 
The  subtlest  workman  wonder  ?     Dead  the  dead,  60 

The  living  seeni'd  alive  ;  with  clearer  view 
His  eye  beheld  not  Avho  beheld  the  truth, 
Than  mine  what  I  did  tread  on,  while  I  went 
Low  bending.     Now  swell  out ;  and  with  stiff  necks  ' 

Pass  on,  ye  sons  of  Eve  1  vale  not  your  looks,  65 

Lest  they  descry  the  evil  of  your  path !  : 

1  noted  not  (so  busied  was  my  thought)  | 
How  much  we  now  had  circled  of  the  mount,  5 
And  of  his  course  yet  more  the  sun  had  spent,  j. 
When  he,  who  with  still  wakeful  caution  went,  70  ;i 
Admonish'd  :  "  Baise  thou  up  thy  head  :  for  know  .. 
Time  is  not  now  for  slow  sus])ense.  Behold  | 
That  Avay  an  angel  hasting  towards  us !  Lo  ; 
Where  duly  the  sixth  handmaid  doth  return 

From  service  on  the  day.     Wear  thou  in  look  75 

And  gesture  seemly  grace  of  reverent  awe,  | 

11  g 


162  PUIiGATORT. 

That  gladly  he  may  forward  us  aloft. 
Consider  that  this  day  ne'er  dawns  again." 

Time's  loss  he  liad  so  often  warn'd  me  'g.'iinst, 
I  could  not  miss  the  scope  at  which  he  aini'd.  80 

The  goodly  shape  approach'd  us,  snowy  white 
In  vesture,  and  with  visage  casting  streams 
Of  tremulous  lustre  like  tlie  matin  star. 
Ilis  arms  he  open'd,  then  his  wings  ;  and  spake : 
"  Onward  :  the  steps,  behold  !  are  near  ;  and  noAV  85 

Th'  ascent  is  without  difficulty  gain'd." 

A  scanty  few  are  they,  who  when  they  liear 
Such  tidings,  hasten.     O  ye  race  of  men 
Though  born  to  soar,  Avhy  suffer  ye  a  wind 
So  slight  to  baffle  ye  ?     Pie  led  us  on  "  90 

Where  the  rock  parted  ;  here  against  my  front 
Did  beat  his  wings,  then  promis'd  I  should  fare 
In  safety  on  my  way.     As  to  ascend 
That  steep,  upon  whose  brow  the  chapel  stands 
(O'er  Rubaconte,  looking  lordly  down  96 

On  the  well-guided  city,)  up  the  right 
Th'  impetuous  rise  is  broken  by  the  steps 
Carv'd  in  that  old  and  simple  age,  when  still 
The  registry  and  label  rested  safe  ; 

Thus  is  th'  acclivity  reliev'd,  which  here  100 

Precipitous  from  the  other  circuit  falls  : 
But  on  each  hand  the  tall  cliff  presses  close. 

As  ent'ring  there  we  turn'd,  voices,  in  strain 
Ineffable,  sang  :  "  Blessed  are  the  poor 
In  spirit."     Ah  how  far  unlike  to  these  105 

The  straits  of  hell ;  here  songs  to  usher  us, 
There  shrieks  of  woe  !     We  climb  the  holy  stairs  : 
And  lighter  to  myself  by  far  I  seem'd 
Than  on  the  plain  before,  whence  thus  I  spake  : 
"  Say,  master,  of  what  heavy  thing  have  I  110 

Been  lighten'd,  that  scarce  aught  the  sense  of  toil 
Affects  me  journeying  ?  "     He  in  few  replied  : 
"  When  sin's  broad  characters,  that  yet  remain 
U])on  thy  temples,  though  well  nigh  effac'd, 
Shall  be,  as  one  is,  all  clean  razed  out,  116 

Then  shall  thy  feet  by  heartiness  of  will 


PUKGATOKY.  103 

Be  so  o'erconie,  tliey  not  alone  shall  feel 
No  sense  of  labour,  but  delight  much  more 
Shall  wait  them  urg'd  along  their  upward  Avay." 

Then  like  to  one,  upon  whose  head  is  ])lacVl  120 

Somewhat  he  deems  not  of  but  from  the  becks 
Of  others  as  the}'  pass  him  by  ;  his  hand 
Lends  therefore  helji  to'  assure  him,  searches,  finds. 
And  well  performs  such  office  as  the  eye 
Wants  power  to  execute  :  so  stretching  forth  125 

The  fingers  of  my  right  hand,  did  I  find 
Six  only  of  the  letters,  which  his  sword 
Who  bare  the  keys  had  trac'd  upon  my  brow. 
The  leader,  as  he  mark'd  mine  action,  smil'd. 


CANTO  XIII. 

We  reach'd  the  summit  of  the  scale,  and  stood 

Upon  the  second  buttress  of  that  mount 

Which  healeth  him  who  climbs.     A  cornice  there, 

Like  to  the  former,  girdles  round  the  hill ; 

Save  that  its  arch  with  sweep  less  ample  bends.  5 

Shadow  nor  image  there  is  seen  ;  all  smooth 
The  rampart  and  the  path,  reflecting  nought 
But  the  rock's  sullen  hue.     "  If  here  wo  wait 
For  some  to  question,"  said  the  bard,  "  I  fear 
Our  choice  may  haply  meet  too  long  delay."  10 

Then  fixedly  upon  the  sun  his  eyes 
He  fasten'd,  made  his  right  the  central  point 
From  whence  to  move,  and  turn'd  the  left  aside. 
"O  pleasant  light,  my  confidence  and  hoi:)e, 
Conduct  us  thou,"  he  cried,  "on  this  new  Avay,  15 

Where  now  I  venture,  leading  to  the  bourn 
We  seek.     The  universal  worki  to  thee 
Owes  warmth  and  lustre.     If  no  other  cause 
Forbid,  thy  beams  should  ever  be  our  guide." 

Far,  as  is  measur'd  for  a  mile  on  earth,  20 

In  brief  space  had  we  journey'd  ;  such  ]>rompt  will 
Impeird  ;  and  towards  us  flying,  now  were  heard 
Spirits  invisible^,  who  courteously 


164  ^PUUGATOKY. 

Unto  love's  table  bade  the  welcome  guest. 

Tlie  voice,  that  first  flew  by,  callM  fortli  aloud,  25 

"They  have  no  wine  ;  "  so  on  behind  us  past, 

Those  sounds  reiterating,  nor  yet  lost 

In  the  faint  distance,  when  another  came 

Crying,  "  I  am  Orestes,"  and  alike 

Wing'd  its  fleet  way.    "  Oh  father  !  "  I  cxclaim'd,         30 

"What  tongues  are  these?"  and  as  I  question'd,  lo ! 

A  third  exclaiming,  "Love  ye  those  have  wrong'd  you." 

"  This  circuit,"  said  my  teacher,  "  knots  the  scourge 
For  envy,  and  the  cords  are  therefore  drawn 
By  charity's  correcting  hand.     The  curb  35 

Is  of  a  harsher  sound,  as  thou  shalt  hear 
(If  I  deem  rightly),  ere  thou  reach  the  pass. 
Where  pardon  sets  them  free.     But  fix  thine  eyes 
Intently  through  the  air,  and  thou  shalt  see 
A  multitude  before  thee  seated,  each  40 

Along  the  shelving  grot."     Then  more  than  erst 
I  op'd  my  eyes,  before  me  view'd,  and  saw 
Shadows  with  garments  dark  as  was  the  rock; 
And  when  we  pass'd  a  little  forth,  I  heard 
A  crying,  "  Blessed  Mary  !  pray  for  us,  45 

Michael  and  Peter  !  all  ye  saintly  host !  " 

I  do  not  think  there  walks  on  earth  this  day 
Man  so  remorseless,  that  he  had  not  yearn'd 
With  pity  at  the  sight  that  next  I  saw. 
Mine  eyes  a  load  of  sorrow  teem'd,  when  now  50 

I  stood  so  near  them,  that  their  semblances 
Came  clearly  to  my  view.     Of  sackcloth  vile 
Their  cov'ring  seem'd ;  and  on  his  shoulder  one 
Did  stay  another,  leaning,  and  all  lean'd 
Against  the  cliff.     E'en  thus  the  blind  and  poor,  55 

Near  the  confessionals,  to  crave  an  alms, 
Stand,  each  his  head  upon  his  fellow's  sunk. 
So  most  to  stir  compassion,  not  by  sound 
Of  words  alone,  but  that,  which  moves  not  less, 
The  sight  of  mis'ry.     And  as  never  beam  60 

Of  noonday  visiteth  the  eyeless  man, 
E'en  so  was  heav'n  a  niggard  unto  these 
Of  his  fair  light ;  for,  through  the  orbs  of  all, 


riTUGATonv.  1G5 

A  thread  of  wire,  ini])ier(;iiig,  knits  tliem  up, 

As  for  tlic  taming  of  a  haggard  hawk.  65 

It  were  a  wrong,  niethonght,  to  {)ass  and  look 
On  others,  yet  myself  tlie  wliile  unseen. 
To  my  sage  counsel  thei-efore  did  I  turn. 
He  knew  the  meaning  of  the  mute  apjieal, 
Nor  waited  for  my  questioning,  but  said:  70 

"  Speak  ;  and  be  brief,  be  subtile  in  thy  words." 

On  that  part  of  the  cornice,  wlience  no  rim 
Engarlands  its  steep  fall,  did  Virgil  come; 
On  the'  other  side  me  were  tlio  sjiirits,  their  cheeks 
Bathing  devout  with  penitential  tears,  75 

That  through  the  dread  impalement  fore'd  a  Avay. 

I  turn'd  me  to  them,  and  "  O  shades  !  "  said  I, 
"  Assur'd  that  to  your  eyes  unveil'd  shall  shine 
The  lofty  light,  sole  object  of  your  wish. 
So  may  heaven's  grace  clear  whatsoe'er  of  foam  80 

Floats  turbid  on  the  conscience,  that  thenceforth 
The  stream  of  mind  roll  limpid  from  its  source, 
As  ye  declare  (for  so  shall  ye  impart 
A  boon  I  dearly  prize)  if  any  soul 

Of  Latium  dwell  among  ye  ;  and  perchance  85 

That  soul  may  profit,  if  I  learn  so  much." 

"  My  brother,  we  are  each  one  citizens 
Of  one  true  city.     Any  thou  wouldst  say, 
Who  lived  a  stranger  in  Italia's  land." 

So  heard  I  answering,  as  ap])ear'd,  a  voice  90 

That  onward  came  some  space  from  Avhence  I  stood. 

A  spirit  I  noted,  in  whose  look  was  mark'd 
Ex])ectance.     Ask  ye  how  ?     The  chin  was  rais'd 
As  in  one  reft  of  siglit.     "  Spirit,"  said  I, 
"  Who  for  thy  rise  are  tutoring  (if  thou  be  95 

That  which  didst  answer  to  me,)  or  by  place 
Or  name,  disclose  thj-self,  that  I  may  know  thee." 

"I  was,"  it  answer'd,  "  of  Sienna  :  here 
1  cleanse  away  with  these  the  evil  life, 
Soliciting  with  tears  that  He,  who  is,  100 

Vouchsafe  him  to  us.     Though  Sapia  nam'd 
In  sapience  I  excell'd  not,  gladdei'  far 
Of  others'  hurt,  than  of  the  good  befell  me. 


r 


IGG  PURGATORY. 

Tliat  thou  niayst  own  I  now  deceive  thee  not, 

Hear,  if  my  folly  were  not  as  I  speak  it.  105 

When  now  my  years  slo])'d  waning  down  the  arch, 

It  so  beclianc'd,  my  fellow  citizens 

Near  Colle  met  their  enemies  in  the  field, 

And  I  pray'd  God  to  grant  what  He  had  will'd. 

There  were  they  vanquish'd,  and  betook  themselves    110 

Unto  the  bitter  passnges  of  flight. 

I  mark'd  the  hunt,  and  waxing  out  of  bounds 

In  gladness,  lifted  up  my  shameless  brow. 

And  like  the  merlin  cheated  by  a  gleam, 

Cried,  'It  is  over.     Heav'n  !  I  fear  thee  not.'  115 

Upon  my  verge  of  life  I  wish'd  for  peace 

With  God  ;  nor  yet  repentance  had  supplied 

What  I  did  lack  of  duty,  were  it  not 

The  hermit  Piero,  touch'd  with  charity, 

In  his  devout  oraisons  thought  on  me.  120 

But  who  art  thou  that  question'st  of  our  state, 

Who  go'st  to  my  belief,  with  lids  unclos'd. 

And  breathest  in  thy  talk?" — "Mine  e^^es,"  said  I, 

"  May  yet  be  here  ta'en  from  me  ;  but  not  long ; 

For  they  have  not  offended  grievously  125 

With  envious  glances.     But  the  woe  beneath 

Urges  my  soul  with  more  exceeding  dread. 

That  nether  load  already  weighs  me  down," 

She  thus  :  "  Who  then  amongst  us  here  aloft 
Hath  brought  thee,  if  thou  weenest  to  return?"  130 

"  He,"  answer'd  I,  "  M'ho  standeth  mute  beside  me. 
I  live  :  of  me  ask  therefore,  chosen  spirit. 
If  thoii  desire  I  yonder  yet  should  move 
For  thee  my  mortal  feet." — "  Oh  !  "  she  replied, 
"This  is  so  strange  a  thing,  it  is  great  sign  135 

That  God  doth  love  thee.     Therefore  with  tliy  prayer 
Sometime  assist  me  :  and  by  that  I  crave. 
Which  most  thou  covetest,  tliat  if  thy  feet 
E'er  tread  on  Tuscan  soil,  thou  save  my  fame 
Amongst  my  kindred.     Them  shalt  thou  behold  140 

With  that  vain  multitude,  who  set  their  hope 
On  Telamone's  haven,  there  to  fail 
Confounded,  more  than  when  the  fancied  stream 


iM'uoATt^nv.  167 

Tliey  sougjit  of  Diaii  oallM  :  hut  tlicy  wlio  lead 

Their  navies,  more  tliaii  niiuM  liojies  sliall  mourn."      145 


CANTO  XIV. 

"  Sat  who  is  he  around  our  mountain  winds, 
Or  ever  deatli  has  prun'd  his  wing  for  flight, 
That  opes  his  eyes  and  covers  them  at  will  ?  " 

"  I  know  not  who  he  is,  but  know  thus  much  • 
lie  comes  not  singly.     Do  thou  ask  of  him,  5 

For  thou  art  nearer  to  him,  and  take  heed 
Accost  him  gently,  so  that  he  may  speak." 

Thus  on  the  right  two  spirits  bending  each 
Toward  the  other,  talk'd  of  me,  then  both 
Addressing  me,  their  faces  backward  lean'd,  10 

And  thus  the  one  began  :  "  O  soul,  who  yet 
Pent  in  the  body,  tendest  towards  the  sky ! 
For  cliarity,  we  pray  tliee,  comfort  us. 
Recounting  whence  thou  com'st,  and  who  thou  art : 
For  thou  dost  make  us  at  the  favour  shown  thee  15 

Marvel,  as  at  a  thing  that  ne'er  hath  been." 

"  There  stretches  through  the  midst  of  Tuscany, 
I  straight  began  :  "  a  brooklet,  Avhose  well-head 
Springs  up  in  Falterona,  with  his  race 
Not  satisfied,  when  he  some  hundred  miles  20 

Hath  measur'd.     From  his  banks  bring  I  this  frame. 
To  tell  you  who  I  am  were  words  misspent : 
For  yet  my  name  scarce  sounds  on  rumour's  lip." 

"  If  well  I  do  incorp'rate  with  my  thought 
The  meaning  of  thy  speech,"  said  he,  who  first  li5 

Addrest  me,  "  thoii  dost  speak  of  Arno's  wave." 

To  whom  the  otlier  :  "  Why  hath  he  conceal'd 
The  title  of  that  river,  as  a  man 
Doth  of  some  horrible  thing '?  "     The  spirit,  wlio 
Thereof  was  question'd,  did  acquit  him  thus :  30 

"  I  know  not :  but  'tis  fitting  Avell  the  name 
Should  perish  of  that  A^ale  ;  for  from  the  source 
AVhere  teems  so  j)leiiteously  the  Aljnne  steep 
Maim'd  of  Pelorus,  (that  doth  scarcely  2)ass 


168  PURGATORY. 

Beyond  tliat  limit,)  even  to  tlic  point  35 

Whereunto  ocean  is  restor'tl,  wliat  heaven 
Drains  from  th'  exliaustless  store  for  all  earth's  streams, 
Thronghout  the  s|)ace  is  virtue  worried  down, 
As  'twere  a  snake,  by  all,  for  mortal  foe. 
Or  through  disastrous  influence  on  the  j3lace,  40 

Or  else  distortion  of  misguided  wills. 
That  custom  goads  to  evil :  whence  in  those, 
The  dwellers  in  that  miserable  vale. 
Nature  is  so  transform'd,  it  seems  as  they 
Had  shar'd  of  Circe's  feeding.     'Midst  brute  swine,       45 
Worthier  of  acorns  than  of  other  food 
Created  for  man's  use,  he  shapeth  first 
His  obscure  Avay  ;  then,  sloj)ing  onward,  finds 
Curs,  snarlers  more  in  spite  than  power,  from  whom 
He  turns  Avith  scorn  aside :  still  journeying  down,  50 

By  how  much  more  the  curst  and  luckless  foss 
Swells  out  to  largeness,  e'en  so  much  it  finds 
Dogs  turning  into  wolves.     Descending  still 
Through  yet  more  hollow  eddies,  next  he  meets 
A  race  of  foxes,  so  reijlete  Avith  craft,  55 

They  do  not  fear  that  skill  can  master  it. 
Nor  will  I  cease  because  my  Avords  are  heard 
!     By  other  ears  than  thine.     It  shall  be  Avell 
For  this  man,  if  he  keep  in  memory 

What  from  no  erring  spirit  I  reveal.  60 

Lo  !  I  behold  thy  grandson,  that  becomes 
A  hunter  of  those  wolves,  upon  the  shore 
Of  the  fierce  stream,  and  cows  them  all  Avith  dread  : 
Their  flesh  yet  living  sets  he  up  to  sale. 
Then  like  an  aged  beast  to  slaughter  dooms.  65 

Many  of  life  he  reaA'^es,  himself  of  Avorth 
And  goodly  estimation.     Smear'd  with  gore 
Mark  how  he  issues  from  the  rueful  wood. 
Leaving  such  havoc,  that  in  thousand  years 
It  spreads  not  to  i)rime  lustihood  again."  70 

As  one,  Avho  tidings  hears  of  woe  to  come. 
Changes  his  looks  jterturb'd,  from  Avhate'er  part 
The  peril  grasp  him,  so  behcTd  I  cliange 
That  spirit,  who  liad  turn'd  to  listen,  struck 


rURGATOIlY.  101) 

With  sadness,  soon  as  lie  had  caught  tlie  word.  75 

His  visage  and  the  other's  speecli  did  raise 

Desire  in  me  to  know  the  names  of  l)otli, 

Wliereof  with  meek  entreaty  I  iuquir'd. 

Tlie  shade,  who  kite  addrest  me,  thus  resum'd: 

"  Thy  wish  imports,  tliat  I  vouclisafe  to  do  80 

For  thy  sake  wliat  thou  wilt  not  do  for  mine. 

But  since  God's  will  is  that  so  largely  shine 

His  <'Tace  in  thee,  I  will  be  liberal  too. 

Guido  of  Duca  know  then  that  I  am. 

Envy  so  parch'd  my  blood,  that  liad  I  seen  85 

A  fellow  man  made  joyous,  tliou  hadst  mark'd 

A  livid  paleness  overspread  my  cheek. 

Such  harvest  reap  I  of  the  seed  I  sow'd. 

O  man,  why  place  thy  heart  where  there  doth  need 

Exclusion  of  partici])ants  in  good  ?  90 

This  is  Rinieri's  s])irit,  this  the  boast 

And  honour  of  the  house  of  Calboli, 

Wliere  of  his  worth  no  heritage  remains. 

Nor  his  the  only  blood,  that  hath  been  stript 

('Twixt  Po,  the  mount,  the  Reno  and  the  shore,)  95 

Of  all  that  truth  or  fancy  asks  for  bliss ; 

But  in  those  limits  such  a  growth  has  sprung 

Of  rank  and  venom'd  roots,  as  long  would  mock 

Slow  culture's  toil.     Where  is  good  Lizio?  where 

IManardi,  Traversaro,  and  Carpigna?  100 

O  bastard  slips  of  old  Romagna's  line! 

When  in  Bologna  the  low  artisan, 

And  in  Facnza  yon  Bernardin  sprouts, 

A  gentle  cyon  from  ignoble  stem. 

Wonder  not,  Tuscan,  if  thou  see  me  Aveep,  105 

When  I  recall  to  mind  those  once  lov'd  names, 

Guido  of  Pi-ata,  and  of  Azzo  him 

Tliat  dwelt  with  you  ;  Tignoso  and  his  troop, 

With  Traversaro's  house  and  Anastngio's, 

(Each  race  disherited)  and  beside  these,  110 

The  ladies  and  the  knights,  the  toils  and  ease, 

That  wntch'd  us  into  love  and  courtesy ; 

Where  now  sucli  malice  reigns  in  recreant  hearts. 

O  Brettinoro  !   wherefoi-e  tarriest  still, 


170  PUUGATOIiV, 

Since  forth  of  tlioe  tliy  fmnily  liulli  gone,  115 

And  many,  lialing  evil,  join'd  tlieir  stej)S? 

Well  doeth  he,  tliat  bids  his  lineage  cease, 

JBagnacavallo ;  Casti'acaro  ill. 

And  Conio  worse,  Avho  care  to  propagate 

A  race  of  Counties  fi-oni  such  blood  as  theirs.  120 

Well  shall  ye  also  do,  Pagani,  then 

When  from  amongst  you  hies  your  demon  child. 

Not  so,  howe'er,  that  henceforth  there  remain 

True  j)roof  of  Avhat  ye  were.     O  Hugolin  ! 

Thou  sprung  of  Fantolini's  line  !  thy  name  125 

Is  safe,  since  none  is  look'd  for  after  thee 

To  cloud  its  lustre,  warping  from  thy  stock. 

But,  Tuscan,  go  thy  ways  ;  for  now  I  take 

Far  more  delight  in  wee]>ing  than  in  words. 

Such  pity  for  your  sakes  hath  wrung  my  heart."  130 

We  knew  those  gentle  spirits  at  parting  heard 
Our  steps.     Their  silence  therefore  of  our  way 
Assur'd  us.     Soon  as  we  had  quitted  them. 
Advancing  onward,  lo  !  a  voice  that  seem'd 
Like  vollied  light'ning,  when  it  rives  the  air,  135 

Met  us,  and  shouted,  "  Whosoever  finds 
Will  slay  me,"  then  fled  from  us,  as  the  bolt 
Lanc'd  sudden  from  a  downward-rushing  cloud. 
When  it  had  giv'n  short  truce  unto  our  hearing, 
Behold  the  other  with  a  crash  as  loud  140 

As  the  quick-following  thunder  :  "  Mark  in  me 
Aglauros  turn'd  to  rock."     I  at  the  sound 
Retreating  drcAV  more  closely  to  my  guide. 

Now  in  mute  stillness  rested  all  the  air : 
And  thus  he  spake  :  "There  was  the  galling  bit.  145 

But  your  old  enemy  so  baits  his  hook. 
He  drags  you  eager  to  him.     Hence  nor  curb 
Avails  you,  nor  reclaiming  call.     Heav'n  calls 
And  round  about  you  wheeling  courts  your  gaze 
With  everlasting  beauties.     Yet  your  eye  150 

Turns  with  fond  doting  still  upon  the  earth. 
Therefore  He  smites  you  who  discerneth  all." 


4 


rURGATORT.  171 

CANTO  XV. 

As  much  as  'twixt  the  third  liour's  close  and  dawn, 

Appearcth  of  lieav'n's  sphere,  that  ever  whirls 

As  restless  as  an  infant  in  his  play, 

So  much  appear'd  reniainino;  to  tlie  sun 

Of  his  slope  journey  towards  the  western  goal.  5 

Evening  was  there,  and  here  the  noon  of  night ; 
And  fidl  upon  our  forehead  smote  the  beams. 
For  round  the  mountain,  circling,  so  our  path 
Had  led  us,  that  toward  the  sun-set  now 
Direct  we  journey'd  :  when  I  felt  a  weight  10 

Of  more  exceeding  splendour,  than  before, 
Press  on  my  front.     The  cause  unknown,  amaze 
Possess'd  me,  and  both  hands  against  my  brows 
Lifting,  I  interpos'd  them,  as  a  screen, 
That  of  its  gorgeous  superflux  of  light  16 

Clipp'd  the  diminish'd  orb.     As  when  the  ray, 
Striking  on  water  or  the  surface  clear 
Of  mirror,  leaps  unto  the  opposite  ])art, 
Ascending  at  a  glance,  e'en  as  it  fell, 

(And  so  much  differs  from  the  stone,  that  falls  20 

Through  equal  space,  as  ]u-actice  skill  hath  shown  ;) 
Thus  with  refracted  lioht  before  me  seemed 
The  ground  there  smitten  ;  whence  in  sudden  haste 
My  sight  recoil'd.     "  What  is  this,  sire  belov'd  ! 
'Gainst  which  I  strive  to  shield  the  sight  in  vain  ?  "      25 
Cried  I,  "  and  which  toAvards  us  moving  seems?  " 

"  Marvel  not,  if  the  family  of  heav'n," 
He  answer'd,  "  yet  with  dazzling  radiance  dim 
Thy  sense.     It  is  a  messenger  who  comes. 
Inviting  man's  ascent.     Such  sights  ere  long,  3U 

Not  grievous,  shall  impart  to  thee  delight, 
As  thy  perception  is  by  nature  wrought 
Up  to  their  pitch."     The  blessed  angel,  soon 
As  Ave  had  reach'd  him,  hail'd  us  with  glad  voice  : 
"  Here  enter  on  a  ladder  far  less  steep  35 

Than  ye  haA-e  yet  encounter'd."     We  forthwith 
Ascending,  heard  beliind  us  chanted  sweet, 
"Blessed  the  merciful,"  and  "  Happy  thou  ! 


172  PURGATORY. 

Tliat  conqucr'st."     Lonely  oacli,  my  guide  and  I 
Pursued  our  upward  way;  and  as  we  went,  40 

Some  proiit  from  liis  words  I  hoj)'d  to  win, 
And  tlius  of  liini  incjuirini;-,  fram'd  my  speecli: 
"What  meant  IJomaona's  sjjirit,  wlien  lie  spake 
Of  bliss  exelusive  with  no  partner  shar'd  ?" 

lie  straight  replied  :  "No  wonder,  since  lie  knows,  45 
What  sorrow  waits  on  his  own  worst  defect, 
If  he  chide  others,  that  they  less  may  mourn. 
Because  ye  point  your  Avishes  at  a  mark. 
Where,  by  communion  of  possessors,  part 
Is  lessen'd,  envy  bloweth  up  the  sighs  of  men.  50 

No  fear  of  that  might  touch  ye,  if  the  love 
Of  higher  si>here  exalted  your  desire. 
For  there,  by  how  much  more  they  call  it  ovrs^ 
So  much  propriety  of  each  in  good 

Encreases  more,  and  heighten'd  charity  55 

Wraps  that  fair  cloister  in  a  brighter  flame." 

"Now  lack  I  satisfaction  more,"  said  I, 
"  Than  if  thou  hadst  been  silent  at  the  first. 
And  doubt  more  gathers  on  my  lab'ring  thought. 
How  can  it  chance,  tliat  good  distributed,  60 

The  man}',  that  possess  it,  makes  more  rich, 
Than  if't  were  shar'd  by  few  ?  "     He  answering  thus  : 
"  Thy  mind,  reverting  still  to  things  of  earth, 
Strikes  darkness  from  true  light.     The  highest  good 
Unlimited,  ineffable,  doth  so  speed  65 

To  love,  as  beam  to  lucid  body  darts, 
Giving  as  much  of  ardour  as  it  finds. 
The  sem])iternal  effluence  streams  abroad 
Spreading,  wherever  charity  extends. 
So  that  the  more  aspirants  to  that  bliss  70 

Are  multi])lied,  more  good  is  there  to  love, 
And  more  is  lov'd  ;  as  mirrors,  that  reflect, 
Each  unto  other,  propagated  light. 
If  these  my  words  avail  not  to  allay 

Thy  thirsting,  Beatrice  thou  shalt  see,  75 

Who  of  this  want,  and  of  all  else  thou  hast, 
Shall  lid  thee  to  the  full.     Provide  but  thou, 
'J'hat  fi'om  thy  temples  may  be  soon  eras'd, 


rUUGATOllY.  173 

E'en  as  the  two  already,  tliose  five  scars, 

That  when  they  pain  thee  worst,  tlien  kindliest  lieal,"  80 

"Thou,"  I  had  said,  "eontent'st  me,"  when  1  saw 
The  other  round  was  2:ainM,  aiul  woiid'ring  eyes 
Did  keep  me  mute.     There  suddenly  I  sceni'd 
By  an  ecsatic  vision  wrapt  away  ; 

And  in  a  temple  saw,  niethought,  a  crowd  85 

Of  many  persons  ;  and  at  th'  entrance  stood 
A  dame,  whose  sweet  demeanour  did  ex])ress 
A  mother's  love,  Avho  said,  "  Child  !  why  hast  thou 
Dealt  with  us  thus  ?     Behold  thy  sire  and  I 
Sorrowing  have  sought  thee  ;  "  and  so  held  her  peace,  90 
And  straight  the  vision  fled,     A  female  next 
A])pear'd  before  me,  down  wliose  visage  cours'd 
Those  waters,  that  grief  forces  out  from  one 
By  deep  resentment  stung,  who  seem'd  to  say  : 
"  If  thou,  Pisistratus,  he  lord  indeed  95 

Over  this  city,  nam'd  with  such  debate 
Of  adverse  gods,  and  whence  each  science  sparkles, 
Avenge  thee  of  those  arms,  whose  bold  embrace 
Hath  clasp'd  our  daughter ;  "  and  to  hei-,  meseem'd, 
Benign  and  meek,  with  visage  undisturb'd,  100 

Her  sovran  spake  :  "  How  shall  we  those  requite, 
Who  Avish  us  evil,  if  we  thus  condemn 
The  man  that  loves  us  ?  "     After  that  I  saw 
A  multitude,  in  fury  burning,  slay 
With  stones  a  stripling  youth,  and  shout  amain  105 

I        "  Destroy,  destroy  :  "  and  him  I  saw,  Avho  bow'd 

I        Heavy  with  death  unto  the  ground,  yet  made  ! 

f        His  eyes,  unfolded  upward,  gates  to  heav'n, 
Praying  forgiveness  of  th'  Almighty  Sire, 
Amidst  that  cruel  conflict,  on  his  foes,  110 

With  looks,  that  win  compassion  to  their  aim. 

Soon  as  my  s])irit,  from  her  airy  flight 
Returning,  sought  again  the  things,  whose  truth 
Depends  not  on  her  shaping,  I  observ'd 
How  she  had  rov'd  to  no  unreal  scenes.  115 

Meanwhile  the  leader,  who  might  see  Imov'd, 
As  one,  who  struggles  to  shake  off  his  sleep, 

,        Exclahn'd  :  "  What  ails  thee,  that  thou  canst  not  hold 


174  rUUGATORY. 

Thy  footin<T  firm,  but  more  than  lialf  a  lonpic 

Hast  travoi'd  witli  clos'd  eyes  and  tott'i-ini^  uait,  120 

Like  to  a  man  by  wine  or  sleep  o'erclinr<f'd  ?" 

"  Beloved  father  !  so  thou  deiu^n,"  said  I, 
"To  listen,  I  Avill  tell  thee  Avhat  ai)])ear'<l 
Befoi-e  me,  when  so  fail'd  my  sinkinir  steps." 

He  thus  :  "Not  if  thy  countenanee  were  inask'd       125 
With  iiundred  vizards,  could  a  thoui^ht  of  thine 
How  small  soe'er,  elude  me.     What  thou  saw'st 
Was  shown,  that  freely  thou  mightst  o])e  thy  heart 
To  tl)e  waters  of  ])eace,  that  flow  diffus'd 
Fi-om  their  eternal  fountain.     I  not  ask'd,  130 

What  ails  thee?  for  such  cause  as  he  doth,  who 
Looks  only  with  that  eye  which  sees  no  more, 
When  spiritless  the  body  lies ;  but  ask'd, 
To  give  fresh  vigour  to  thy  foot.     Such  goads 
The  slow  and  loit'ring  need  ;  that  they  be  found  135 

Not  wanting,  when  their  hour  of  watch  returns." 

So  on  "\ve  journey'd  through  the  evening  sky 
Gazing  intent,  far  onward,  as  our  eyes 
With  level  view  could  stretch  against  the  bright 
Ves])ertine  ray  :  and  lo  !  by  slow  degrees  140 

Gath'ring,  a  fog  made  tow'rds  us,  dark  as  night. 
There  was  no  room  for  'scaping ;  and  that  mist 
Bereft  us,  both  of  sight  and  the  pure  air. 


CANTO  XVI. 

Hell's  dunnest  gloom,  or  night  unlustrous,  dark, 

Of  every  planet  'reft,  and  pall'd  in  clouds, 

Did  never  spread  before  the  sight  a  veil 

Li  thickness  like  that  fog,  nor  to  the  sense 

So  paljDable  and  gross.     Ent'ring  its  shade,  5 

Mine  eye  endured  not  with  unclosed  lids  ; 

Which  marking,  near  me  drew  the  faitiiful  guide, 

Offering  me  his  shoulder  for  a  stay. 

As  the  blind  man  behind  his  leader  walks. 
Lest  he  should  err,  or  stumble  iTnawares  10 

On  what  might  harm  liim,  or  ])erhaps  destroy, 


PURGATORY.  175 

I  journej'd  tlirough  tliat  bitter  air  and  foul, 

Still  list'niiigj  to  my  escort's  warnino'  voice, 

"Look  that  from  me  thou  part  not."     Straight  I  heard 

Voices,  and  each  one  seem'd  to  pray  for  peace,  15 

And  for  com]iassion,  to  the  Lamb  of  God 

That  taketh  sins  away.     Their  prelude  still 

Was  "  Agnus  Dei,"  and  through  all  tlie  choir. 

One  voice,  one  measure  ran,  that  perfect  seem'd 

The  concord  of  their  song.     "  Are  these  I  hear  20 

Spirits,  O  master  ?  "  I  exclaini'd  ;  and  he  : 

"  Thou  aim'st  aright :  these  loose  the  bonds  of  wrath." 

"Now  Avho   art  thou,  that  through  our  smoke   dost 
cleave  ? 
And  speak'st  of  us,  as  thou  thyself  e'en  yet 
Dividest  time  by  calends'?"     So  one  voice  25 

Bespake  me  ;  whence  my  master  said  :  "  Reply  ; 
And  ask,  if  upward  hence  the  passage  lead." 

"  O  being !  who  dost  make  thee  pure,  to  stand 
Beautiful  once  more  in  thy  Maker's  sight ! 
Along  with  me  :  and  thou  shalt  hear  and  wonder."        30 
Thus  I,  whereto  the  spirit  answering  spake  : 
"  Long  as  't  is  lawful  for  me,  shall  my  steps 
Follow  on  thine ;  and  since  the  cloudy  smoke 
Forbids  the  seeing,  hearing  in  its  stead 
Shall  keep  us  join'd."     I  then  forthwith  began  :  35 

"  Yet  in  my  mortal  swathing,  I  ascend 
To  higher  regions,  and  am  hither  come 
Through  the  fearful  agony  of  hell. 
And,  if  so  largely  God  hath  doled  his  grace, 
That,  clean  beside  all  modern  ])recedent,  40 

He  wills  me  to  behold  his  kingly  state, 
From  me  conceal  not  who  thou  wast,  ere  death 
Had  loos'd  thee  ;  but  instruct  me:  and  instruct 
If  rightly  to  the  pass  I  tend  ;  thy  words 
The  way  directing  as  a  safe  escort."  45 

"  I  Avas  of  Lorabardy,  and  Marco  call'd  : 
Not  inexperienc'd  of  the  world,  that  worth 
I  still  affected,  from  which  all  have  turn'd 
The  nerveless  bow  aside.     Thy  course  tends  right 
Unto  the  summit  :  "  and,  rcjtlying  thus,  50 


176  PUIKJATUJiY 

ITo  added,  "  I  boscecli  tliee  pray  for  mo, 

When  thou  slialt  come  aloft."     And  I  to  lilm  : 

"  Acce])t  my  faith  for  jtlcclge  I  will  perform 

What  thou  requirest.      Yet  one  doubt  remains, 

That  wrinu:s  me  sorely,  if  I  solve  it  not,  55 

Sini>"ly  before  it  ui'ijf'd  me,  doubled  now 

By  thine  oj)iiiion,  when  I  couple  that 

With  one  elsewhere  declar'd,  each  strength'ning  olliei-. 

The  world  indeed  is  even  so  forlorn 

Of  all  good  as  thou  s])eak'st  it,  and  so  swarms  60 

With  every  evil.     Yet,  beseech  thee,  point 

The  cause  out  to  me,  that  myself  may  see. 

And  unto  others  show  it  :  for  in  heaven 

One  places  it,  and  one  on  earth  below." 

Then  heaving  forth  a  deep  and  audible  sigli,  65 

"  Brother !  "  he  thus  began,  "  the  world  is  blind ; 
And  thou  in  truth  com'st  from  it.     Yc,  who  live, 
Do  so  eacli  cause  refer  to  heav'n  above, 
E'en  as  its  motion  of  necessity 

Drew  with  it  all  that  moves.     If  this  were  so,  70 

Free  choice  in  you  were  none  ;  nor  justice  Avould  I 

There  should  be  joy  for  virtue,  woe  for  ill. 
Your  movements  have  their  primal  bent  from  heaven  ; 
Not  all ;  yet  said  I  all ;  what  tlien  ensues? 
Light  have  ye  still  to  follow  evil  or  good,  75 

And  of  the  will  free  power,  which,  if  it  stand 
Firm  and  unwearied  in  Heav'n's  first  assay. 
Conquers  at  last,  so  it  be  clierish'd  well, 
Triumphant  over  all.     To  mightier  force, 
To  better  nature  subject,  yo  abide  80 

Free,  not  conscrain'd  by  that,  wliicli  forms  in  you 
The  reasoning  mind  uninfluenc'd  of  the  stars. 
If  then  the  present  race  of  mankind  err, 
Seek  in  yourselves  the  cause,  and  find  it  there. 
Herein  thou  shalt  confess  me  no  false  spy.  85 

"  Forth  from  his  ])lastic  hand,  who  charni'd  beholds 
Her  image  ere  she  yet  exist,  the  soul 
Comes  like  a  babe,  that  wantons  sportively 
Weeping  and  laughing  in  its  wayward  moods, 
As  artless  and  as  ignorant  of  aught,  90 


PURGATORY.  177 

Save  tliat  licr  Maker  beiiio;  one  who  dwells 

Willi  gladness  ever,  williiioiy  she  turns 

To  whatc'er  yields  her  joy.     Of  some  slight,  good 

Tlie  Havour  soon  slie  tastes  ;  and,  snar'd  by  that, 

With  fondness  she  })ursues  it,  if  no  guide  95 

Kecall,  no  rein  direct  her  wand'ring  course. 

Hence  it  behov'd,  the  law  should  be  a  curb ; 

A  sovereign  hence  behov'd,  whose  piercing  view 

•  Might  mark  at  least  the  fortress  and  main  tower 

I      Of  the  true  city.      Laws  indeed  there  are  :  100 

But  who  is  he  observes  them  ?     None  ;  not  he, 
j      Who  goes  before,  the  shepherd  of  the  flock, 
1      Who  chews  the  cud  but  doth  not  cleave  the  hoof. 
I      Therefore  the  multitude,  who  see  their  guide 

i      Strike  at  the  very  good  they  covet  most,  105 

Feed  there  and  look  no  further.     Thus  the  cause 
,      Is  not  corrupted  nature  in  yourselves, 
'i      But  ill-couducting,  that  hath  turn'd  the  world 
,      To  evil.     Home,  that  turn'd  ii  unto  good, 
i      Was  wont  to  boast  two  suns,  whose  several  beams        IK' 
j      Cast  light  on  either  way,  the  w^orld's  and  God's. 
I      One  since  hath  quench'd  the  other  ;  and  the  sword 
j      Is  grafted  on  the  crook;  and  so  conjoin'd 

•  Each  must  perforce  decline  to  worse,  unaw'd 
By  fear  of  other.     If  thou  doubt  me,  mark  115 
The  blade  :  each  herb  is  judg'd  of  by  its  seed. 
That  land,  through  which  Adice  and  the  Po 
Their  waters  roll,  was  once  the  residence 
Of  courtesy  and  valour,  ere  the  day. 

That  fro^^n'd  on  Frederick  ;  now  secure  may  pass        120 
Those  limits,  whosoe'er  hath  left,  for  shame. 
To  talk  with  good  men,  or  come  near  their  haunts. 
Three  aged  ones  are  still  found  there,  in  whom 
The  old  time  chides  the  new :  these  deem  it  long 
Ere  God  restore  thein  to  a  better  world  :  125 

The  good  Gherardo,  of  Palazzo  he 
Conrad,  and  Guido  of  Castello,  nam'd 
In  Gallic  ])hrase  more  fitly  the  plain  Lombard. 
On  this  at  last  conclude.     The  church  of  Rome, 
Mixing  two  governments  that  ill  assort,  130 

12 


178  PUKC.ATORY. 

TIath  iiiiss'd  licr  footing,  fall'n  into  the  mire, 
And  tlicre  liersclf  and  burden  nmcli  detil'd." 

"  {)  JMarco  !"  I  replied,  thine  arguments 
Convince  me:  and  the  cause  I  now  discern 
Wliy  of  the  heritage  no  portion  came  135 

To  Levi's  offs])ring.     But  resolve  me  tliis: 
AVho  that  Gherardo  is,  that  as  thou  sayst 
Is  left  a  sample  of  the  perisli'd  race. 
And  for  I'ebuke  to  this  untoward  age  ?" 

"Either  thy  words,"  said  he,  "  deceive  ;  or  else        140 
Are  meant  to  try  me  ;  that  tliou,  speaking  Tuscan, 
Appear'st  not  to  have  heard  of  good  Gherardo  ; 
The  sole  addition  that,  by  which  I  know  him  ; 
Unless  I  borrow'd  from  his  daughter  Gaia 
Another  name  to  grace  him.     God  be  with  you.  145 

I  bear  you  corap)any  no  more.     Behold 
The  dawn  with  white  ray  glimm'ring  through  the  mist. 
I  must  away — the  angel  comes — ere  he 
I       Appear."     He  said,  and  would  not  hear  me  more. 


CANTO  XVII. 


I       Oall  to  remembrance,  reader,  if  thon  e'er 
I       Hast,  on  a  mountain  top,  been  ta'en  by  cloud, 
I       Through  which  thou  saw'st  no  better,  than  the  mole 
I       Doth  through  opacous  membrane  ;  then,  whene'er 
1       The  watry  vaj^ours  dense  began  to  melt  5 

Into  thin  air,  how  faintly  the  sun's  sjihere 
Seem'd  wading  through  them  ;  so  thy  nimble  thought 
May  image,  how  at  iii'st  I  rebcheld 
The. sun,  that  bedward  now  his  couch  o'erhung. 

I  Thus  Avith  my  leader's  feet  still  equaling  j^ace  10 

From  forth  that  cloud  I  came,  when  now  expir'd 
Tlie  parting  beams  from  off  the  nether  shores. 

O  quick  and  forgetive  power  !  that  sometimes  dost 
So  rob  us  of  ourselves,  Ave  take  no  mark 
Though  round  about  us  thousand  trumpets  clang  !  15 

What  moves  thee,  if  the  senses  stir  not  ?     Light 
Kindled  in  heav'n,  spontaneous,  self-inform'd. 


PURGATOEY.  179 

Or  likelier  gliding  down  with  swift  illapse 

By  will  divine.     Porti-ay'd  before  nie  came 

The  traces  of  her  dire  impiety,  20 

Whose  form  was  chang'd  into  the  bird,  that  must 

Delights  itself  in  song:  and  here  my  mind 

Was  inwardly  so  wrapt,  it  gave  no  place 

To  anght  that  ask'd  admittance  from  without. 

Next  shower'd  into  my  fantasy  a  shai')e  25 

As  of  one  crucified,  whose  visage  spake 
Fell  rancour,  malice  deep,  wherein  he  died ; 
And  roTTud  him  Ahasuerus  the  great  king, 
Esther  his  bride,  and  Mordecai  the  just, 
Blameless  in  word  and  deed.     As  of  itself  30 

That  unsubstantial  coinage  of  the  brain 
Burst,  like  a  bubble,  when  the  water  fails 
That  fed  it ;  in  my  vision  straight  uprose 
A  damsel  weeping  loud,  and  cried,  "O  queeu  ! 

0  mother  !  wherefore  has  intemperate  ire  o5 
Driv'n  thee  to  loath  thy  being  ?     Not  to  lose 

Lavinia,  dcsp'rate  thoi;  hast  shiin  thyself. 
Now  hast  thou  lost  me.     I  am  she,  whose  tears 
Mourn,  ere  I  fall,  a  mother's  timeless  end." 

E'en  as  a  sleep  breaks  off,  if  suddenly  40 

New  radiance  strike  upon  the  closed  lids, 
The  broken  slumber  quivering  ere  it  dies; 
Thus  from  before  me  sunk  that  imagery 
Vanishing,  soon  as  on  my  face  there  struck 
The  light,  outshining  far  our  earthly  beam.  45 

A-!  round  I  turn'd  me  to  survey  what  place 

1  had  arriv'd  at,  "  Here  ye  mount,"  exclaim'd 
A  voice,  that  other  pur])ose  left  me  none, 
Save  will  so  eager  to  behold  who  spake, 

I  could  not  choose  but  gaze.     As  'fore  the  sun,  50 

That  weighs  our  vision  down,  and  veils  his  form 

In  light  transcendent,  thus  my  virtue  fail'd 

Unequal.     "  This  is  Spirit  from  above. 

Who  marshals  us  our  upward  way,  unsought ; 

And  in  his  own  light  shrouds  him.     As  a  man  55 

Doth  for  himself,  so  now  is  done  for  tis. 

For  whoso  waits  im])loring,  yet  sees  need 


180  rUKGATOUY. 

Of  liis  prompt  aidance,  sets  himself  ])repar'd 

For  blunt  denial,  ere  the  suit  be  made. 

liefuse  we  not  to  lend  a  ready  foot  60 

At  such  inviting  :  haste  we  to  ascend, 

Before  it  darken :  for  we  may  not  then. 

Till  morn  again  return,"     So  spake  my  guide  ; 

And  to  one  ladder  both  address'd  our  steps ;  \ 

And  the  first  stair  a])proaching,  I  })erceiv'd  C5       | 

Near  me  as  'twere  the  waving  of  a  wing, 

That  fann'd  my  face  and  whisper'd  :  "  Blessed  they 

The  i^eacemakers  :  they  know  not  evil  wrath." 

Now  to  such  height  above  our  heads  were  rais'd 
The  last  beams,  follow'd  close  by  hooded  night,  70 

That  many  a  star  on  all  sides  through  the  gloom 
Shone  out.     "  Why  partest  from  me,  O  my  strength  ?" 
So  with  myself  I  commun'd  ;  for  I  felt 
My  o'ertoil'd  sinewB  slacken.     We  had  reach'd 
The  summit,  and  Avere  fix'd  like  to  a  bark  75 

Arriv'd  at  land.     And  waiting  a  short  space. 
If  aught  should  meet  mine  ear  in  that  new  round, 
Then  to  my  guide  I  turn'd,  and  said  :  "  Lov'd  sire  ! 
Declare  Avhat  guilt  is  on  this  circle  purg'd. 
If  our  feet  rest,  no  need  thy  speech  should  pause."         80 

lie  thus  to  me  :  "  The  love  of  good,  whate'er 
Wanted  of  just  proportion,  here  fulfils. 
Here  plies  afresh  the  oar,  that  loiter'd  ill. 
But  that  thou  mayst  yet  clearlier  understand, 
Give  ear  unto  my  words,  and  thou  shalt  cull  oO 

Some  fruit  may  please  thee  well,  from  this  delay. 

"  Creator,  nor  created  being,  ne'er. 
My  son,"  he  thus  began,  "  was  ^vithout  love, 
Or  natural,  or  the  free  spirit's  gi-owth. 
Thou  hast  not  that  to  learn.     The  natural  still  90 

Is  without  error  ;  but  the  other  swerves, 
If  on  ill  object  bent,  or  through  excess 
Of  vigour,  or  defect.     While  e'er  it  seeks 
The  primal  blessings,  or  with  measure  due 
Th'  inferior,  no  deliglit,  that  flows  from  it,  95 

Partakes  of  ill.     But  let  it  warp  to  evil. 
Or  with  more  ardour  than  behoves,  or  less, 


rUROATORY.  181 

Pursue  the  good,  tlie  tiling  created  llien 
\        Works  'gainst  its  Maker.     Hence  tliou  must  infer 
I        That  love  is  gerniin  of  each  virtue  in  ye,  100 

\       And  of  each  act  no  less,  that  merits  j)ain. 
:        !N"ow  since  it  may  not  be,  but  love  intend 
i        The  welfare  mainly  of  the  thing  it  loves, 
I       All  from  self-hatred  are  secure  ;  and  since 
I       No  being  can  be  thought  t'  exist  apart  105 

I       And  independent  of  the  first,  a  bar 
f       Of  equal  force  restrains  from  hating  that. 
\  "Grant  the  distinction  just ;  and  it  remains 

i       The'  evil  must  be  another's,  which  is  lov'd. 

Three  ways  such  love  is  gender'd  in  your  clay.  J 10 

I       There  is  who  hopes  (his  neighbour's  worth  deprest,) 
j       Preeminence  himself,  and  coverts  hence 
I       For  his  OAvn  greatness  that  another  fall. 
[       There  is  who  so  much  fears  the  loss  of  power, 
I       Fame,  favour,  glory  (should  his  fellow  mount  115 

f       Above  him),  and  so  sickens  at  the  thought, 
I       He  loves  their  op]iosite  :  and  there  is  he, 
[       Whom  wrong  or  insult  seems  to  gall  and  shame 
I       That  he  doth  thirst  for  A-engeance,  and  such  needs 
1^       Must  doat  on  other's  evil.     Here  beneath  120 

^       This  threefold  love  is  mourn'd.     Of  th'  other  sort 
(       Be  now  instructed,  that  which  follows  good 
[       But  with  disorder'd  and  irregular  course. 
\  "All  indistinctly  apprehend  a  bliss 

I       On  which  the  soul  may  rest,  the  hearts  of  all  125 

1       Yearn  after  it,  and  to  that  wished  bourn 

All  therefore  strive  to  tend.     If  ye  behold 
I       Or  seek  it  Avith  a  love  remiss  and  lax. 

This  cornice  after  just  reiDcnting  lays 
[       Its  penal  torment  on  ye.     Other  good  130 

[       There  is,  Avhere  man  finds  not  his  happiness: 
\       It  is  not  true  fruition,  not  that  blest 

Essence,  of  every  good  the  branch  and  root. 

The  love  too  lavishly  bestow'd  on  this, 

Along  three  circles  over  us,  is  mourn'd.  .  135 

Account  of  that  division  tripartite 

Expect  not,  fitter  for  thine  own  research." 


"T 


1S2  PURGATOKV. 

CANTO  XVIII. 

TiiK  tc'iK'licr  cii(k'(l,:ni(l  his  lii^li  discourse 

CoiKjluding,  earnest  in  my  looks  inqiiir'd 

If  I  n])i)ear'd  content;  and  I,  wlioni  still 

Unsated  thirst  to  hear  him  nrg'd,  was  mute, 

Mute  outwardly,  yet  inwardly  I  said  :  6 

"  Perchance  my  too  much  questioning  offends, 

Ijut  he,  true  father,  mark'd  the  seci'et  wish 

By  dilhdence  restrain'd,  and  si)eaking  gave 

Me  boldness  thus  to  S])eak  :  "  Master,  my  sight 

Gathers  so  lively  virtue  from  thy  beams,  10 

That  all,  tliy  words  convey,  distinct  is  seen. 

Wherefore  I  jiray  thee,  father,  Avhom  this  lieart 

Holds  dearest !  thou  wouldst  deign  by  proof  t'  unfold 

That  love,  from  which  as  from  their  source  thou  bring'st 

All  good  deeds  and  their  opposite."     He  then  :  15 

"  To  what  I  now  disclose  be  thy  clear  ken 

Directed,  and  thou  plainly  shalt  behold 

I      How  much  those  blind  have  err'd,  who  make  themselves 
The  guides  of  men.     The  soul,  created  apt 
To  love,  moves  versatile  which  way  soe'er  20 

I      Aught  pleasing  prompts  her,  soon  as  she  is  wak'd 

I      By  pleasure  into  act.     Of  substance  true 

\      Your  appi'ehension  forms  its  counterfeit, 

I      And  in  you  the  ideal  shape  presenting 

I      Attracts  the  soul's  regard.     If  she,  thus  drawn,  25 

\      Incline  toward  it,  love  is  that  inclining, 

I      And  a  new  nature  knit  by  pleasure  in  ye. 

j      Then  as  the  fire  points  up,  and  mounting  seeks 

I      His  birth-place  and  his  lasting  seat,  e'en  thus 

Enters  the  captive  soul  into  desire,  30 

Which  is  a  spiritual  motion,  that  ne'er  rests 

Before  enjoyment  of  the  thing  it  loves. 

Enough  to  show  thee,  how  the  truth  from  those 

Is  hidden,  who  aver  all  love  a  thing 

Praise-worthy  in  itself  :  although  perhaps  35 

Its  substance  seem  still  good.     Yet  if  the  wax 

Be  good,  it  follows  not  th'  impression  must." 

"What  love  is,"  I  return'd,  "thy  words,  O  guide! 


ruRGATOur.  183 

And  my  own  clocilc  mind,  reveal.     Yet  tlicncc 

N(nv  doubts  have  sprung.     For  from  without  if  love 

Be  offer'd  to  us,  and  the  spirit  knows  40 

No  other  footing,  tend  she  right  or  wrong, 

Is  no  desert  of  hers."     He  answering  thus : 

"  What  reason  here  discovers  I  havG  power 

To  show  thee  :  that  whicli  lies  beyond,  expect  45 

From  Beatrice,  faith  not  reason's  task. 

Spirit,  substantial  form,  with  matter  join'd 

Not  in  confusion  mix'd,  hath  in  itself 

Specific  virtue  of  that  union  born. 

Which  is  not  felt  except  it  work,  nor  jjrov'd  50 

But  through  effect,  as  vegetable  life 

By  the  green  leaf.     From  whence  his  intellect 

Deduced  its  primal  notices  of  things, 

Man  therefore  knows  not,  or  his  ap]ietites 

Tlieir  first  affections  ;  such  in  you,  as  zeal  55 

In  bees  to  gather  honey ;  at  the  first. 

Volition,  meriting  nor  blame  nor  praise. 

But  o'er  each  lower  faculty  supreme, 

That  as  she  list  are  summon'd  to  her  bar. 

Ye  have  that  virtue  in  you,  whose  just  voice  60 

Uttereth  counsel,  and  whose  word  should  keep 

The  threshold  of  assent.     Here  is  the  source, 

Whence  cause  of  merit  in  you  is  deriv'd, 

E'en  as  the  affections  good  or  ill  she  takes. 

Or  severs,  winnow'd  as  the  chaff.     Those  men  65 

Who  reas'ning  went  to  depth  profoundest,  mark'd 

That  innate  freedom,  and  were  thence  induc'd 

To  leave  their  moral  teaching  to  the  world. 

Grant  then,  that  from  necessity  arise 

All  love  that  glows  within  you  ;  to  dismiss  70 

Or  harbour  it,  tlie  jiow'r  is  in  yourselves. 

Remember,  Beatrice,  in  her  style, 

Denominates  free  choice  by  eminence 

The  noble  virtue,  if  in  talk  with  thee 

She  touch  upon  that  theme."     The  moon,  well  nigh      75 

To  midnight  hour  belated,  made  the  stars 

A))pear  to  wink  and  fade;  and  her  broad  disk 

Seem'd  like  a  crag  on  fire,  as  up  the  vault 


IS4  I'LTUGATOUY. 

Tliiit  coui-sc  slio  jouriicyM,  wIi'r-]!  Hk^  sim  then  u'nrms, 

Wlicii  tlicy  oi'  IkOine  beliold  liiin  :it  his  set.  80 

Ik'lwixt  Sardinia  and  the  Corsic  isle. 

And  now  the  weiglit,  tluit  liung  upon  my  tliouglit, 

Was  lighten'd  by  the  aid  of  tl)at  clear  s]>irit, 

Who  raiseth  Andes  above  Mantua's  name. 

I  therefore,  when  my  questions  had  obtain'd  85 

Solution  plain  and  amjile,  stood  ag  one 

Musing  in  dreamy  slumber;  but  not  long 

Slumber'd  ;  for  suddenly  a  multitude, 

The  steep  already  turning  from  behind, 

JIush'd  on.     With  fui-y  and  like  random  rout,  90 

As  echoing  on  tlieiv  sliores  at  midnight  heard 

Ismenus  and  Asojmis,  for  his  Thebes 

It"  Bacchus'  hel})  were  needed;  so  came  these 

Tumultuous,  curving  each  his  rapid  step, 

By  eagerness  impell'd  of  holy  love.  05 

Soon  they  o'ertook  us  ;  with  such  swiftness  mov'd 
The  mighty  crowd.     Two  spirits  at  their  head 
Cried  weeping  ;  "  Blessed  Mary  sought  with  haste 
The  hilly  region.     C»sar  to  subdue 

Ilerda,  darted  in  Marseilles  his  sting,  100 

And  flew  to  Spain." — "  Oh  tarry  not :  away  ;  " 
The  others  shouted  ;  "  let  not  time  be  lost 
Through  slackness  of  affection.     Hearty  zeal 
To  serve  reanimates  celestial  grace." 

"  O  ye,  in  whom  intenser  fervency  105 

Haply  supplies,  where  lukewarm  erst  ye  fail'd, 
Slow  or  neglectful,  to  absolve  your  part 

(Of  good  and  virtuous,  this  man,  who  yet  lives, 
(Credit  my  tale,  though  strange)  desires  t'  ascend, 
So  morning  rise  to  light  us.     Therefore  say  110 

Which  hand  leads  nearest  to  the  rifted  rock?" 

I  So  spake  my  guide,  to  whom  a  shade  return'd  : 

"  Come  after  us,  and  thou  shalt  find  the  cleft. 
We  may  not  linger :  such  resistless  will 
I       Si)eeds  our  unwearied  course.     Vouchsafe  us  then       115 
[       Tliy  jiardon,  if  our  duty  seem  to  thee 
[,        Discourteous  I'udeness.     In  Verona  I 
I       \Vi;s  abbot  of  San  Zeno,  when  the  hand 


ruTirrATORT.  185 

Of  Baibarossa  grasp'd  In)|)Ci'inl  sway, 

That  name,  ne'er  utter'd  witliout  tears  in  Milan.  lUO 

And  tliere  is  he,  hath  one  foot  in  liis  grave, 

Who  for  that  monastery  ere  long  sliall  weep, 

lining  liis  power  niisus'd :  for  that  his  son, 

Of  body  ill  comjiact,  and  Avorsc  in  mind. 

And  born  in  evil,  he  hath  set  in  ]>lace  125 

Of  its  trne  pastor."     Whether  more  he  spake, 

Or  liere  was  mute,  I  know  not :  he  had  sped 

E'en  now  so  far  beyond  us.     Yet  thus  much 

I  heard,  and  in  rememb'rance  treasur'd  it. 

He  then,  who  never  fail'd  me  at  my  need,  130 

Cried,  "  Hither  turn.     Lo  !  two  with  sharp  remorse 
Chiding  their  sin !  "     In  rear  of  all  the  troop 
These  shouted  :  "  First  they  died,  to  Avhom  the  sea 
Open'd,  or  ever  Jordan  saw  his  heirs : 
And  they,  who  with  iEneas  to  the  end  135 

Endur'd  not  suffering,  for  their  portion  chose 
Life  without  glory."     Soon  as  they  liad  fled 
Past  reach  of  sight,  new  thought  within  me  rose 
By  others  follow'd  fast,  and  each  unlike 
Its  fellow  :  till  led  on  from  thought  to  thought,  140 

And  pleasnr'd  with  the  fleeting  train,  mine  eye 
Was  clos'd,  and  meditation  chang'd  to  dream. 


CANTO  XIX. 

It  was  the  hour,  when  of  diurnal  heat 

No  reliques  chafe  the  cold  beams  of  the  moon, 

O'erpower'd  by  earth,  or  ])lanetary  sway 

Of  Saturn  ;  and  the  geomancer  sees 

His  Greater  Fortune  up  the  east  ascend,  5 

Where  grey  dawn  checkers  first  the  shadowy  cone ; 

When  'fore  me  in  my  dream  a  woman's  shape 

Thei-e  came,  with  lips  that  stammer'd,  eyes  aslant, 

Distorted  feet,  hands  maim'd,  and  colour  pale. 

I  look'd  upon  her ;  and  as  sunshine  cheers  If 

I       Limbs  numb'd  by  nightly  cold,  e'en  thus  my  look 
I        Unloos'd  her  tongue,  next  in  brief  space  her  form 


l^i>  rirnoATOTiY, 

I)ocvoj>it  raisM  croct,  niul  faded  face 

Willi  love's  own  line  illuiii'd.     Recov'i'iiig  speech 

She  forthwith  warhliiig  such  n  strain  betian,  15 

That  I,  how  loth  soe'er,  could  scarce  have  held 

Attention  from  the  song.     '"I,"  thus  she  sang, 

"  I  am  the  Syren,  she,  whom  mariners 

On  the  wide  sea  are  wilder'd  when  they  hear  : 

Such  fulness  of  delight  the  list'ner  feels.  20 

I  from  his  course  Ulysses  by  my  lay 

Enchanted  drew.     Whoe'er  frequents  me  once 

Parts  seldom  ;  so  I  charm  him,  and  liis  heart 

Contented  knows  no  void."     Or  ere  lier  mouth 

Was  clos'd,  to  shame  her  at  her  side  appear'd  25 

A  dame  of  semblance  holy.     With  stern  voice 

She  utter'd  ;  "  Say,  O  Virgil,  Avho  is  this  ?  " 

Which  hearing,  he  approach'd,  with  eyes  still  bent 

Toward  that  goodly  ])resence  :  th'  other  seiz'd  her, 

And,  her  robes  tearing,  open'd  her  before,  30 

And  show'd  the  belly  to  me,  whence  a  smell. 

Exhaling  loathsome,  wak'd  me.     Round  I  turn'd 

Mine  eyes,  and  thus  the  teacher  :  "  At  the  least 

Three  times  my  voice  hatli  call'd  thee.     Rise,  begone. 

Let  us  the  opening  find  where  thou  mayst  pass."  35 

I  straightway  rose.     Now  day,  pour'd  down  from  high, 
Fill'd  all  the  circuits  of  the  sacred  mount ; 
And,  as  we  journey'd,  on  our  shoulder  smote 
The  early  ray.     I  follow'd,  stooping  low 
My  forehead,  as  a  man,  o'ercharg'd  with  thought,  40 

Who  bends  Isim  to  the  likeness  of  an  arch. 
That  midway  spans  the  flood;  when  thus  I  heard, 
"  Come,  enter  here,"  in  tone  so  soft  and  mild. 
As  never  met  the  ear  on  mortal  strand. 

With  sw^an-like  wings  dispread  and  pointing  up,        45 
Who  thus  had  spoken  marshal'd  us  along. 
Where  each  side  of  the  solid  masonry 
The  sloping  walls  retir'd ;  then  mov'd  his  plumes, 
And  fanning  us,  affirm'd  that  those,  who  mourn. 
Are  blessed,  for  that  comfort  shall  be  theirs.  50 

"  What  aileth  thee,  that  still  thou  look'st  to  earth?" 
Began  my  leader ;  while  th'  angelic  shape 


puu<;AT(~)iiY.  187 

A  little  over  us  his  station  took, 

"New  vision,"  I  replied,  "hath  raisM  in  me 
Surniisings  strange  and  anxious  doubts,  whereon  55 

My  soul  intent  allows  no  other  thought 
Or  room  or  entrance. — "  ITast  thou  seen,"  said  lie, 
"That  old  enchantress,  her,  whose  wiles  alone 
Tlie  spirits  o'er  us  weep  for  ?     Hast  thou  seen 
How  man  may  free  him  of  her  bonds?     Enough.  GO 

Let  thy  heels  spurn  the  earth,  and  thy  rais'd  ken 
Fix  on  the  lure,  Avhich  heav'n's  eternal  King 
Whirls  in  the  rolling  sjdieres."     As  on  his  feet 
The  falcon  first  looks  down,  then  to  the  sky 
Turns,  and  forth  stretches  eager  for  the  food,  i5 

That  wooes  him  thither ;  so  the  call  I  heard, 
So  onward,  far  as  the  dividing  rock 
Gave  Avay,  I  journey'd,  till  the  plain  was  reach'd. 

On  the  fifth  circle  when  I  stood  at  large, 
A  race  api)ear'd  before-me,  on  the  ground  70 

All  downward  lying  prone  and  wee])ing  sore, 
"My  soul  liatli  cleaved  to  the  dust,"  I  heard 
With  sighs  so  deep,  they  Avell  nigh  choak'd  the  words, 
"  0  ye  elect  of  God,  whose  penal  woes 
Both  hope  and  justice  mitigate,  direct  75 

Tow'rds  the  steep  rising  our  uncertain  way." 

"  If  ye  approach  secure  from  this  our  doom. 
Prostration — and  would  urge  your  course  with  speeo. 
See  that  ye  still  to  rightward  keep  the  brink." 

So  them  the  bard  besought ;  and  such  the  words,        80 
Beyond  us  some  short  space,  in  answer  came. 

I  noted  what  remain'd  yet  hidden  from  them : 
Thence  to  my  liege's  eyes  mine  eyes  I  bent, 
Aiul  he,  forthwith  interpreting  their  suit, 
Beckon'd  his  glad  assent..    Free  then  to  act,  85 

As  pleas'd  me,  I  drew  near,  and  took  my  stand 
Over  that  shade,  whose  words  I  late  had  mark'd. 
And,  "  Sp.irit !  "  I  said,  "  in  whom  repentant  tears 
Mature  that  blessed  hour,  when  thou  with  God 
Shalt  find  acceptance,  for  a  while  suspend  90 

For  me  that  mightier  care.     Say  who  thou  wast, 
Why  thus  ye  grovel  on  your  bellies  prone, 


188  rURfJATORY. 

And  it"  in  fiuii'lit.  yc  wish  my  sci'vicc  tlu'i'c, 

Whence  liviiii!;  I  niii  coine."     lie  answering  sj^nkc  : 

"The  cause  why  lleav'n  our  back  toward  his  co])e         95 

Reverses,  slmlt  tliou  know  :  hut  mc  know  iirst 

The  successor  of  Peter,  and  the  name 

And  title  of  my  lineage  from  that  stream, 

That  'twixt  Chiaveri  and  Siestri  draws 

His  lim])id  waters  through  the  lowly  glen.  100 

A  month  and  little  more  by  ])roof  I  learnt, 

With  what  a  weight  that  robe  of  sov'reignty 

Upon  his  shoulder  rests,  who  from  the  mire 

Would  guard  it :  that  each  other  fardel  seems 

But  feathers  hi  the  balance.     Late,  alas  !  105 

Was  my  conversion  :  but  when  I  became 

Rome's  pastor,  I  discern'd  at  once  the  dream 

And  cozenage  of  life,  saw  that  the  heart 

Rested  not  there,  and  yet  no  prouder  height 

Lur'd  on  the  climber  :  wherefore,  of  that  life  110 

No  more  enamoured,  in  my  bosom  love 

Of  purer  being  kindled.     For  till  then 

I  was  a  soul  in  misery,  alienate 

From  God,  and  covetous  of  all  earthly  things  ; 

Now,  as  thou  seest,  here  punish'd  for  my  doting.  115 

Such  cleansing  from  the  taint  of  avarice 

Do  spii'its  converted  need.     This  mount  inflicts 

No  direr  penalty.     E'en  as  our  eyes 

Fasten 'd  below,  nor  e'er  to  loftier  clime 

Were  lifted,  thus  hath  justice  level'd  us  120 

Here  on  the  earth.     As  avarice  quench'd  our  love 

Of  good,  without  which  is  no  working,  thus 

Here  justice  holds  us  prison'd,  hand  and  foot 

Chain'd  down  and  bound,  while  heaven's  just  Lord  shall 

please. 
So  long  to  tarry  motionless  outstretch'd."  125 

My  knees  I  stoop'd,  and  would  have  spoke  ;  but  he, 
Ere  my  beginning,  by  his  ear  perceiv'd 
I  did  him  reverence;  and  "What  cause,"  said  he, 
"Hath  bow'd  thee  thus  !  " — "  Compunction,"  I  rejoin'd. 
"  And  inward  awe  of  your  high  dignity."  I'iO 

"  Up,"  he  exclaim'd,  "  brother  !  upon  thy  feet 


PURGATORY.  189 

Arise  :  orr  not :  thy  fellow  servant  I, 

(Tliiue  and  all  others')  of  one  Sovran  Power. 

If  thou  hast  ever  niark'd  those  holy  sounds 

Of  gospel  truth,  '  nor  shall  be  giv'n  in  marriage,'  135 

Thou  niayst  discern  the  reasons  of  my  si)eech. 

Go  thy  ways  now  ;  and  linger  here  no  more. 

Thy  tarrying  is  a  let  unto  the  tears, 

With  which  I  hasten  that  whereof  thou  spak'st. 

I  have  on  earth  a  kinswoman ;  her  name  i-iO 

Alagia,  worthy  in  herself,  so  ill 

Example  of  our  house  corrupt  her  not : 

And  she  is  all  remaineth  of  me  there." 

CANTO  XX. 

Ill  strives  the  will,  'gainst  will  more  wise  that  strives : 
His  pleasure  therefore  to  mine  own  preferr'd, 
I  drew  the  sponge  yet  thirsty  from  the  wave. 

Onward  I  mov'd  :  he  also  onward  mov'd, 
Who  led  me,  coasting  still,  wherever  place  5 

Along  the  rock  Avas  vacant,  as  a  man 
Walks  near  the  battlements  on  narrow  wall. 
For  those  on  tli'  other  part,  who  drop  by  drop 
Wring  out  their  all-infecting  malady. 
Too  closely  j)ress  the  verge.     Accurst  be  thou  !  10 

Inveterate  wolf  !  whose  gorge  ingluts  more  prey, 
Than  every  beast  beside,  yet  is  not  fill'd  ! 
So  bottomless  thy  maw  ! — Ye  spheres  of  heaven  ! 
To  whom  there  are,  as  seems,  Avho  attribute 
All  change  in  mortal  state,  when  is  the  day  1.5 

Of  his  appearing,  for  whom  fate  reserves 
To  chase  her  hence  ? — With  wary  steps  and  slow 
We  pass'd  ;  and  I  attentive  to  the  shades, 
Whom  piteously  I  heard  lament  and  wail ; 
And,  'midst  the  wailing,  one  before  us  heard  20 

Cry  out  "  O  blessed  Virgin  !  "  as  a  dame 
In  the  sharp  pangs  of  childbed  ;  and  "  How  poor 
Thou  wast,"  it  added,  "  witness  that  low  roof 
Where  thou  didst  lay  thy  sacred  burden  down. 
O  good  Fabricius  !  thou  didst  virtue  choose  25 


I'jO  I'UUGATOnV. 

With  poverty,  before  ,<>'reat  Avealth  with  vice." 

Tlie  words  so  pleas'd  me,  that  desire  to  know 
The  spirit,  from  whose  lip  tliey  seem'd  to  come, 
Did  draw  me  onward.     Yet  it  spake  the  gift 
Of  Nicholas,  which  on  the  maidens  he  30 

Bounteous  hestow'd,  to  save  their  youthful  prime 
TJnblemish'd.     "  Spirit !  who  dost  speak  of  deeds 
So  worthy,  tell  me  who  thou  wast,"  I  said, 
"  And  why  thou  dost  with  single  voice  renew 
Memorial  of  such  praise.     That  boon  vouchsaf'd  35 

Ha]ily  shall  meet  reward  ;  if  I  return 
To  finish  the  short  pilgrimage  of  life, 
Still  S])eeding  to  its  close  on  restless  Aving." 

"  I,"  answer'd  he,  "  will  tell  thee,  not  for  help, 
Which  thence  I  look  for  ;  but  that  in  thyself  40 

Grace  so  exceeding  shines,  before  thy  time 
Of  mortal  dissolution.     I  was  root 
Of  that  ill  plant,  whose  shade  such  poison  sheds 
O'er  all  the  Christian  land,  that  seldom  thence 
Good  fruit  is  gather'd.     Vengeance  soon  should  come,  45 
Had  Ghent  and  Douay,  Lille  and  Bruges  power ; 
And  vengeance  I  of  heav'n's  great  Judge  implore. 
Hugh  Capet  was  I  hight :  from  me  descend 
The  Philips  and  the  Louis,  of  whom  France 
Newly  is  govern'd  ;  born  of  one,  who  ply'd  50 

The  slaughterer's  trade  at  Paris.     When  the  race 
Of  ancient  kings  had  vanish'd  (all  save  one 
Wrapt  up  in  sable  weeds)  within  my  gripe 
I  found  the  reins  of  em])ire,  and  such  powers 
Of  new  acquirement,  with  full  store  of  friends,  55 

That  soon  the  widow'd  circlet  of  the  crown 
Was  girt  ujion  the  temples  of  my  son. 
He,  from  Avhose  bones  th'  anointed  race  begins. 
Till  the  great  dower  of  Provence  had  remov'd 
The  stains,  that  yet  obscur'd  our  lowly  blood,  60 

Its  sway  indeed  Avas  narrow,  but  howe'er 
It  wrought  no  evil :  there,  with  force  and  lies. 
Began  its  rapine  ;  after,  for  amends, 
Poitou  it  seiz'd,  Navarre  and  Gascony. 
To  Italy  came  Charles,  and  for  amends  65 


PUKGATORV.  191 

Young  Conradinc  an  innocent  victim  slew, 

And  sent  th'  angelic  teacher  back  to  heav'n, 

Still  for  amends.     I  see  the  time  at  hand, 

That  forth  from  France  invites  another  Charles 

To  make  himself  and  kindred  better  known.  70 

ITnarm'd  he  issues,  saving  Avith  that  lance. 

Which  the  arch-traitor  tilted  with  ;  and  that 

lie  carries  with  so  home  a  thrust,  as  rives 

The  bowels  of  poor  Florence.     No  increase 

Of  territory  hence,  but  sin  and  shame  75 

Shall  be  his  guerdon,  and  so  much  the  more 

As  he  more  lightly  deems  of  such  foul  wrong. 

I  see  the  other,  who  a  prisoner  late 

Plad  stept  on  shore,  exposing  to  the  mart 

His  daughter,  whom  he  bargains  for,  as  do  80 

The  Corsairs  for  their  slaves.     O  avarice  ! 

What  canst  thou  more,  Avho  hast  subdued  our  blood 

So  wholly  to  thyself,  they  feel  no  care 

Of  their  own  flesh  ?     To  h.ide  with  direr  guilt 

Past  ill  and  future,  lo  !  the  flower-de-luce  85 

Enters  Alagna  !  in  his  Vicar  Christ 

Himself  a  ca]>tive,  and  his  mockery 

Acted  again  !     Lo  !  to  his  holy  lip 

The  vinegar  and  gall  once  more  applied  ! 

And  he  'twixt  living  robbers  doom'd  to  bleed  !  90 

Lo !  the  ncAV  Pilate,  of  whose  cruelty 

Such  violence  cannot  fill  the  measure  up, 

With  no  degree  to  sanction,  pushes  on 

Into  the  temple  his  yet  eager  sails  ! 

"  O  sovran  Master  !  when  shall  I  rejoice  95 

To  see  the  vengeance,  Avhich  thy  wrath  well-plcas'd 
In  secret  silehce  broods? — While  daylight  lasts, 
So  long  what  thou  didst  hear  of  her,  sole  spouse 
Of  the  Great  Spirit,  and  on  which  thou  turn'dst 
To  me  for  comment,  is  the  general  theme  100 

Of  all  our  prayers  :  but  when  it  darkens,  then 
A  different  strain  we  utter,  then  record 
Pygmalion,  ndioni  his  gluttonous  thirst  of  gold 
Made  traitor,  robber,  parricide  :  the  woes 
Of  Midas,  which  his  greedy  wish  ensued,  105 


;1 


192  PURGATORY. 

IMark'd  for  derision  to  :ill  future  times: 

And  the  fond  Aehan,  how  ho  stole  tlie  prey, 

That  yet  lie  seems  by  Joshua's  ire  pursued. 

tSa]»])hira  with  her  husband  next  we  blame  ; 

And  praise  the  forefeet,  that  with  furious  ramp  110 

Spurn'd  Ileliodorus.     All  the  mountain  round 

Rings  with  the  infamy  of  Thracia's  king, 

Who  slew  his  Phrygian  charge :  and  last  a  shout 

Ascends  :  '  Declare,  O  Crassus  !  for  thou  know'st, 

The  flavour  of  thy  gold.'     The  voice  of  each  115 

Now  high  now  low,  as  each  his  impulse  ])rompts, 

Is  led  through  many  a  jiitch,  acute  or  grave. 

Therefore,  not  singly,  I  erewhile  rehears'd 

That  blessedness  we  tell  of  in  the  day  : 

But  near  me  none  beside  liis  accent  rais'd."  120 

From  him  we  now  had  parted,  and  essay'd 
With  utmost  efforts  to  surmount  the  way, 
Wlien  I  did  feel,  as  nodding  to  its  fall, 
The  mountain  tremble  ;  whence  an  icy  chill 
Seiz'd  on  mo,  as  on  one  to  death  convey'd,  125 

So  shook  not  Delos,  when  Latona  there 
Couch'd  to  bring  forth  the  twin-born  eyes  of  heaven. 

Forthwith  from  every  side  a  shout  arose 
So  vehement,  that  suddenly  my  guide 
Drew  near,  and  cried:  "Doubt  not,  while  I  conduct 

thee."  ^  130 

"  Glory !  "  all  shouted  (such  the  sounds  mine  ear 
Gather'd  from  those,  who  near  me  swell'd  the  sounds) 
"  Glory  in  the  highest  bo  to  God."     We  stood 
Immovably  suspended,  like  to  those. 

The  shepherds,  who  first  heard  in  Bethlehem's  field     135 
That  song:  till  ceas'd  the  trembling,  and  the  song 
Was  ended  :  then  our  hallow'd  ]mtli  resum'd, 
Eying  the  prostrate  shadows,  who  renew'd  1 

Their  custoni'd  mourning.     Never  in  my  breast 
Did  ignorance  so  struggle  with  desire  140  ,. 

Of  knowledge,  if  my  memory  do  not  err. 
As  in  that  moment ;  nor  through  haste  dar'd  I 
To  question,  nor  myself  could  aught  discern, 
So  on  I  far'd  in  thoughtfulness  and  dread. 


-.^-^^^-.r^i^^i^i::^^^.^       —-'        .li,.  ■.ii-W-rifffi'lil-V 


rumiAToRV.  193 

CANTO  XXI. 

T;iK  natural  thirst,  ne'er  quencli'd  but  from  the  well, 

Whereof  the  woman  of  Samaria  crav'd, 

Excited  :  liastc  along  the  cumbcr'd  path, 

After  my  guide,  impellVl ;  and  jiity  mov'd 

jNfy  bosom  for  the  'vengeful  deed,  tliough  just.  8 

When  lo  !  even  as  Luke  relates,  that  Christ 

A])pear'd  unto  the  two  upon  their  way, 

New-risen  from  his  vaulted  grave  ;  to  us 

A  sJiade  appear'd,  and  after  us  ajiproach'd, 

Contemplating  the  crowd  beneath  its  feet.  10 

We  were  not  ware  of  it ;  so  first  it  spake. 

Saying,  "  God  give  you  peace,  my  brethren  ! "  then. 

Sudden  we  turn'd  :  and  Virgil  such  salute, 

As  fitted  that  kind  greeting,  gave,  and  cried : 

"  Peace  in  the  blessed  council  be  thy  lot  15 

Awarded  by  that  righteous  court,  which  me 

To  everlasting  banishment  exiles  !  " 

"  How  !  "  he  exclaim'd,  nor  from  his  speed  meanwhile 
Desisting,  "  If  that  ye  be  spirits,  whom  God 
Vouchsafes  not  room  above,  who  n]i  the  height  20 

Has  been  thus  far  your  guide  ?  "     To  whom  the  bard  : 
"  If  thou  observe  the  tokens,  which  this  man 
Trac'd  by  the  finger  of  the  angel  bears, 
'Tis  plain  that  in  the  kingdom  of  the  just 
He  needs  must  share.     But  sithence  she,  whose  Avheel  25 
S]nns  day  and  night,  for  him  not  yet  had  drawn 
That  yarn,  which,  on  the  fatal  distaff  pil'd, 
Clotho  ap])ortions  to  each  wught  that  breathes, 
His  soul,  that  sister  is  to  mine  and  tljine. 
Not  of  herself  could  mount,  for  not  like  ours  30 

Her  ken  :  whence  I,  from  forth  the  ample  gulf 
Of  hell  was  ta'en,  to  lead  him,  and  will  lead  - 
Far  as  my  lore  avails.     But,  if  thou  know. 
Instruct  us  for  what  cause,  the  mount  erewhile 
Thus  shook  and  trembled  :  wherefore  all  at  once  35 

Seem'd  shouting,  even  from  his  "w  ave-wash'd  foot." 

That  questioning  so  tallied  with  my  wish, 
The  thirst  did  feel  abatement  of  its  edge 


194  I'UKtiATOJlV. 

E'en  from  expectance.     lie  forlliwitli  i-eplied  : 

"  In  its  devotion  nought  irregular  40 

This  mount  can  witness,  or  by  punctual  rule 

UnsanctionVl ;  here  from  every  change  exempt. 

Other  than  that,  M'hich  heaven  in  itself 

Doth  of  itself  receiA'e,  no  influence 

Can  reach  us.     Tempest  none,  shower,  hail  or  snow,     45 

Hoar  frost  or  dewy  moistness,  liigher  falls 

Than  that  brief  scale  of  threefold  ste])s :  thick  clouds 

Nor  scudding  rack  are  ever  seen  :  swift  glance 

Ne'er  lightens,  nor  Thaumantian  Iris  gleams, 

That  yonder  often  shift  on  each  side  heav'n,  50 

Vapour  adust  doth  never  mount  above 

The  highest  of  the  trinal  stairs,  whereon 

Peter's  vicegerent  stands.     Lower  perchance, 

With  various  motion  rock'd,  trembles  the  soil : 

But  here,  through  wind  in  earth's  deep  hollow  pent,      55 

I  know  not  how,  yet  never  trembled  :  then 

Trembles,  when  any  spirit  feels  itself 

So  purified,  that  it  may  rise,  or  move 

For  rising,  and  such  loud  acclaim  ensues. 

Purification  by  the  will  alone  60 

Is  prov'd,  that  free  to  change  society 

Seizes  the  soul  rejoicing  in  her  will. 

Desire  of  bliss  is  present  from  the  first ; 

But  strong  joropension  hinders,  to  that  wish 

By  the  just  ordinance  of  heav'n  opj^os'd ;  65 

Propension  now  as  eager  to  fulfil 

Th'  allotted  torment,  as  erewhile  to  sin. 

And  I  who  in  this  punishment  had  lain 

Five  hundred  years  and  more,  but  now  have  felt 

Free  wnsh  for  happier  clime.     Therefore  thou  felt'st      70 

The  mountain  tremble,  and  the  sjnrits  devout 

Heard'st,  over  all  his  limits,  utter  praise 

To  that  liege  Lord,  whom  I  entreat  their  joy 

To  hasten."     Thus  he  spake  :  and  since  the  draught 

Is  grateful  ever  as  the  thirst  is  keen,  75 

No  words  may  speak  my  fulness  of  content. 

"Now,"  said  the  instructor  sage,  "  I  see  the  net 
That  takes  ye  here,  and  how  the  toils  are  loos'd, 


rUUGATORY.  195 

Why  rocks  tlie  mountain  and  -why  ye  rejoice. 

Vouchsafe,  tliat  from  tliy  lips  I  next  may  learn,  80 

AVlio  on  tlie  eartli  tliou  wast,  and  wlierei'ore  here 

So  many  an  age  wert  jirostrate." — "In  tliat  time, 

Wlien  the  good  Titus,  witli  Heav'n's  King  to  lielp, 

Aveng'd  tliose  piteous  gashes,  wlience  tlie  blood 

By  Judas  sold  did  issue,  with  the  name  85 

Most  lasting  and  most  honour'd  there  was  I 

Abundantly  renown'd,"  the  shade  re])ly'd, 

"Not  yet  with  faitli  endued.     So  passing  sweet 

My  vocal  spirit,  from  Tolosa,  Eome 

To  herself  drew  me,  where  I  merited  90 

A  myrtle  garland  to  inwreathe  my  brow. 

Statins  they  name  me  still.     Of  Thebes  I  sang, 

And  next  of  great  Achilles  :  but  i'  th'  way 

Fell  with  the  second  burthen.     Of  my  flame 

Those  sparkles  were  the  seeds,  which  I  deriv'd  95 

From  the  bright  fountain  of  celestial  fire 

That  feeds  unnumber'd  lamps,  the  song  I  mean 

Which  sounds  ^Eneas'  wand'rings :  that  the  breast 

I  hung  at,  that  the  nurse,  from  wJiom  my  veins 

Drank  inspiration  :  whose  authority  100 

Was  ever  sacred  with  me.     To  have  liv'd 

Coeval  Avith  the  Mantuan,  I  would  bide 

The  revolution  of  another  sun 

Beyond  my  stated  years  in  banishment." 

The  Mantuan,  when  he  heard  him,  turn'd  to  me,      105 
And  holding  silence  :  by  his  countenance 
Enjoin'd  me  silence  but  the  powei-  Avhich  wills, 
Bears  not  supreme  control :  laughter  and  tears 
Follow  so  closely  on  the  passion  prompits  them, 
They  wait  not  for  the  motions  of  the  will  110 

In  natures  most  sincere.     I  did  but  smile. 
As  one  who  winks;  and  thereupon  the  sliade 
Ijroke  off,  and  peer'cl  into  mine  eyes,  where  best 
Our  looks  inter])ret.     "  So  to  good  event 
Mayst  thou  conduct  such  great  em])rize,"  he  cried,      115 
"  Say,  why  across  thy  visage  beam'd,  but  now, 
The  lightning  of  a  smile  !  "     On  either  part 
Now  am  I  straitenM  ;  one  conjures  me  speak, 


11'6  PURGATORY. 

Tir  oLlier  to  silence  binds  me  :   whence  a  sigh 

I  utter,  and  the  sigh  is  lieard.     "  Speak  on  ;  "  120 

The  teacher  cried  ;  "  and  do  not  fear  to  speak, 

]>ut  tell  him  what  so  earnestly  he  asks." 

Whereon  I  thus  :  "Perchance,  O  ancient  spirit! 

Thou  marvel'st  at  my  smiling.     There  is  i-oom 

For  yet  more  wonder.     He  who  guides  my  ken  liiu 

On  high,  he  is  that  Mantuan,  led  by  whom 

Thou  didst  presume  of  men  and  gods  to  sing. 

If  other  cause  thou  deem'dst  for  which  I  smil'd, 

Leave  it  as  not  the  true  one  ;  and  believe 

Those  words,  thou  spak'st  of  him,  indeed  the  cause."  180 

Now  down  he  bent  t'  embrace  my  teacher's  feet ; 
But  he  forbade  him  :  "  Brother!  do  it  not : 
Thou  art  a  shadow,  and  behold'st  a  shade." 
He  rising  answer'd  thus  :  "  Now  hast  thou  prov'd 
The  force  and  ardour  of  the  love  I  bear  thee,  135 

When  I  forget  we  are  but  things  of  air. 
And  as  a  substance  treat  an  emj^ty  shade." 

CANTO  XXII. 

Now  we  had  left  the  angel,  who  had  turn'd 

To  the  sixth  circle  our  ascending  step. 

One  gash  from  off  my  forehead  raz'd  :  while  they, 

Whose  wishes  tend  to  justice,  shouted  forth  : 

"  Blessed  !  "  and  ended  with,  "  I  thirst :  "  and  I,  6 

More  nimble  than  along  the  other  straits. 

So  journey'd,  that,  without  the  sense  of  toil, 

I  follow'd  upward  the  swift-footed  shades  ; 

When  Yii'gil  thus  began  :  "  Let  its  pure  flame 

From  virtue  flow,  and  love  can  never  fail  10 

To  warm  another's  bosom,  so  the  light 

Shine  manifestly  forth.     Hence,  from  that  hour, 

When  'mongst  us  in  the  purlieus  of  the  deep, 

Came  down  the  spirit  of  Aquinum's  bard. 

Who  told  of  thine  affection,  my  good  will  15 

Hath  been  for  thee  of  quality  as  strong 

As  ever  link'd  itself  to  one  not  seen. 

Therefore  these  stall's  will  now  seem  short  to  me. 


rUKOATORY,  197 

But  tell  mo  :  mid  if  too  secure  I  loose 

The  rein  with  a  friend's  license,  as  a  friend  20 

Forgive  me,  and  sjteak  now  as  with  a  frieiid: 

How  chanc'd  it  covetous  desire  could  find 

Place  in  that  bosom,  'midst  such  ample  store 

Of  wisdom,  as  thy  zeal  had  treasur'd  there?" 

First  somewhat  mov'd  to  laughter  by  his  words,         25 
Statins  rej)lied  :  "Each  syllable  of  thine 
Is  a  dear  ])ledge  of  love.     Things  oft  a])pear 
That  uiinister  false  matters  to  our  doubts, 
When  their  true  causes  are  remov'd  from  sight. 
Thy  question  doth  assure  me,  thou  believ'st  30 

I  was  on  earth  a  covetous  man,  perhaps 
Because  thou  found'st  me  in  that  circle  ])lac'd. 
Know  then  I  was  too  wide  of  avarice  : 
And  e'en  for  that  excess,  thousands  of  moons 
Have  Avax'd  and  wan'd  upon  my  sufferings.  35 

And  Avere  it  not  that  I  with  heedful  care 
Noted  where  thou  exclaim'st  as  if  in  ire 
With  Inunan  nature,  '  Why,  thou  cursed  thirst 
Of  gold  !  dost  not  with  juster  measure  gi;ide 
The  appetite  of  mortals  ?  '  I  had  met  40 

The  fierce  encounter  of  the  voluble  rock. 
Then  was  I  Avare  that  with  too  ample  wing 
The  hands  may  haste  to  lavishment,  and  turn'd, 
As  from  my  other  evil,  so  from  this 

In  penitence.     How  many  from  their  grave  45 

Shall  with  shorn  locks  arise,  Avho  living,  aye 
And  at  life's  last  extreme,  of  this  offence, 
Tlu'ough  ignorance,  did  not  repent.     And  know, 
The  fault  which  lies  direct  from  any  sin 
In  level  o])position,  here  with  that  50 

Wastes  its  green  rankness  on  one  common  heap. 
Therefore  if  I  have  been  with  those,  who  wail 
Their  avarice,  to  cleanse  me,  through  reverse 
Of  their  transgression,  such  hath  been  my  lot." 

To  whom  tiie  sovran  of  the  pastoral  song :  55 

"While  thou  didst  sing  that  cruel  warfare  wa^'d 
By  the  twin  sori'ow  of  .Jocasta's  womb, 
From  thy  discourse  with  Clio  thei'c,  it  seeius 


198  rUKGATOKV. 

As  faitli  liad  not  bccMi  lliiiic  :  without  the  which 

Good  deeds  suffice  not.     And  if  so,  what  sun  CO 

Rose  on  thee,  or  what  candle  pierc'd  tlie  dark 

That  thou  didst  after  see  to  hoist  the  sail. 

And  follow,  where  tlie  fisherman  had  led?" 

He  answerini:;  thus  :  "By  thee  conducted  first, 
I  enter'd  the  Parnassian  grots,  and  quaff'd  65 

Of  tlie  clear  spring;  illumin'd  first  by  thee 
Open'd  mine  eyes  to  God.     Thou  didst,  as  one, 
Who,  journeying  through  the  darkness,  bears  a  light 
Behind,  that  profits  not  himself,  but  makes 
His  followers  wise,  when  thou  exclaimedst,  '  Lo  !  70 

A  renovated  world  !     Justice  return'd  ! 
Times  of  primeval  innocence  restor'd  ! 
And  a  new  race  descended  from  above!' 
Poet  and  Christian  both  to  thee  I  owed. 
That  thou  mayst  mark  more  clearly  what  I  trace,  75 

My  hand  shall  stretch  forth  to  inform  the  lines 
With  livelier  colouring.     Soon  o'er  all  the  world, 
By  messengers  from  heav'n,  the  true  belief 
Teem'd  now  prolific,  and  that  word  of  thine 
Ac(;ordant,  to  the  new  instructors  chim'd.  80 

Induc'd  by  which  agreement,  I  was  wont 
Resort  to  them  ;  and  soon  their  sanctity 
So  won  u]ion  me,  that,  Domitian's  rage 
Pursuing  them,  I  mix'd  my  tears  with  theirs. 
And,  while  on  earth  I  stay'd,  still  succour'd  them ;         85 
And  their  most  righteous  customs  made  me  scorn 
All  sects  besides.     Before  I  led  the  Greeks, 
In  tuneful  fiction,  to  the  streams  of  Thebes, 
I  was  baptiz'd  ;  but  secretly,  through  fear, 
Remain'd  a  Christian,  and  conform'd  long  time  90 

To  Pagan  rites.     Five  centuries  and  more, 
I  for  that  lukewarmness  was  fain  to  pace 
Round  the  fourth  circle.     Thou  then,  who  hast  rais'd 
The  covering,  which  did  hide  such  blessing  from  me. 
Whilst  much  of  this  ascent  is  yet  to  climb,  95 

Say,  if  thou  know,  where  our  old  Terence  bides, 
Caecilius,  Plautus,  Varro  :  if  condemn'd 
They  dwell,  and  in  what  province  of  the  deep." 


PURCxATORY,  199 

"  Tliose,"  said  my  guide,  "witli  Persius  and  myself, 

And  others  many  more,  are  witli  tliiit  Greek,  100 

Of  mortals,  the  most  chei-ish'd  by  the  Nine, 

In  the  first  ward  of  darkness.     There  ofttimes 

We  of  tliat  mount  hold  converse,  on  whose  top 

For  aye  our  nurses  live.     We  have  the  bard 

Of  Pella,  and  the  Teian,  Agatho,  105 

Simonides,  and  many  a  Grecian  else 

Ingarlanded  with  laurel.     Of  thy  train 

Antigone  is  there,  Deiphile, 

Argia,  and  as  sorrowful  as  erst 

Ismene,  and  who  show'd  Langia's  wave  :  110 

Deidamia  with  her  sisters  there. 

And  blind  Tiresias'  daughter,  and  the  bride 

Sea-born  of  Peleus."     Either  poet  now 

Was  silent,  and.  no  longer  by  th'  ascent 

Or  the  steep  walls  obstructed,  round  them  cast  115 

Inquiring  eyes.     Four  handmaids  of  the  day 

Had  finish'd  now  their  office,  and  the  fifth 

Was  at  the  chariot-beam,  directing  still 

Its  balmy  point  aloof,  when  thus  my  guide  : 

"Methinks,  it  well  behoves  us  to  the  brink  120 

Bend  the  right  shoulder,  circuiting  the  mount, 

As  we  have  ever  us'd."     So  custom  there 

Was  usher  to  the  road,  the  which  we  chose 

Less  doubtful,  as  that  worthy  shade  complied. 

They  on  before  me  went ;  I  sole  pursued,  125 

List'ning  their  speech,  that  to  my  thoughts  convey'd 
Mysterious  lessons  of  sweet  poesy. 
But  soon  they  ceas'd  ;  for  midway  of  the  road 
A  tree  we  found,  with  goodly  fi-uitage  hung, 
And  pleasant  to  the  smell:  and  as  a  fir  l.'JO 

UpAvard  from  bough  to  bough  less  am])le  S];reads, 
So  downward  this  less  ample  sjiread,  that  none, 
Methinks,  aloft  may  climb.     Upon  the  side, 
That  clos'd  our  path,  a  liquid  crystal  fell 
From  the  steep  rock,  and  through  the  sprays  above      1.35 
Stream'd  showering.     With  associate  step  the  bards 
DrcAV  near  the  plant ;  and  from  amidst  the  leaves 
A  voice  was  heard  :  "  Ye  shall  be  chary  of  me ;  " 


200  PURGATORY. 

And  after  .1(1(10(1 :  "  Mary  took  more  thought 

For  joy  and  liononr  of  tlie  nuptial  feast,  140 

Than  for  herself  who  answers  now  for  you. 

The  women  of  old  Koine  were  satisiied 

With  water  for  their  beverage.     Daniel  fed 

On  pulse,  and  wisdom  gain'd.     The  primal  age 

Was  beautiful  as  gold  ;  and  hunger  then  145 

Made  aeorns  tasteful,  thirst  eaeh  rivulet 

Kun  nectar.     Honey  and  locusts  M'ere  the  food, 

Whereon  the  Baptist  in  the  wilderness 

Fed,  and  that  eminence  of  glory  reach'd 

And  greatness,  which  the'  Evangelist  records."  150 


CANTO  XXIII. 

On  the  green  leaf  mine  eyes  were  fix'd,  like  his 

Who  throws  away  his  days  in  idle  chase 

Of  the  diminutive,  when  thus  I  heard 

The  more  than  father  warn  me  :  "Son  !  our  time 

Asks  thriftier  using.     Linger  not :  away."  5 

Thereat  my  face  and  steps  at  once  I  turn'd 
Toward  the  sages,  by  whose  converse  cheer'd 
I  journey'd  on,  and  felt  no  toil :  and  lo ! 
A  sound  of  weeping  and  a  song  :  "  My  lips, 
O  Lord  !  "  and  these  so  mingled,  it  gave  birth  IC 

To  pleasure  and  to  pain.     "O  Sire,  belov'd  ! 
Say  Avhat  is  this  I  hear  ?  "     Thus  I  inquir'd. 

"  Spirits,"  said  he,  "  who  as  they  go,  perchance, 
Their  debt  of  duty  pay."     As  on  their  road 
The  thoughtful  pilgrims,  overtaking  some  15 

Not  known  unto  them,  turn  to  them,  and  look, 
But  stay  not ;  thus,  approaching  from  behind 
With  speedier  motion,  eyed  us,  as  they  pass'd, 
A  crowd  of  spirits,  silent  and  devout. 
The  eyes  of  each  were  dark  and  hollow  :  pale  20 

Their  visage,  and  so  lean  withal,  the  bones 
Stood  staring  thro'  the  skin.     I  do  not  think 
"^I'lius  dry  and  meagre  Erisicthon  show'd. 
When  })inc'hd  by  sharp-set  famine  to  the  quick. 


PUROATORY.  201 

"  Lo  !  "  to  myself  I  mus'd,  "  the  race,  who  lost  25 

Jenisalem,  when  Mary  with  dire  beak 
Prey'd  on  her  cliild."     The  sockets  seeni'd  as  rings, 
From  Avhich  the    gems  were    dropt.     Who    reads    tlie 

name 
Of  man  n])on  his  forehead,  there  tlie  M 
Had  trac'd  most  plainly.     Who  would  deem,  that  scent 
Of  water  and  an  ap])le,  could  have  prov'd  31 

Powerful  to  generate  such  pining  want, 
Not  knowing  how  it  Avrought  ?     While  now  I  stood 
Wond'ring  what  thus  could  waste  them  (for  the  cause 
Of  their  gaunt  hollowness  and  scaly  rind  35 

Appear'd  not)  lo !  a  spirit  turn'd  his  eyes 
In  their  dee})-sunken  cell,  and  fasten'd  them 
On  me,  then  cried  with  vehemence  aloud : 
"What  grace  is  this  vouchsaf'd  me?"     By  his  looks 
I  ne'er  had  recogniz'd  him  :  but  tlie  voice  4G 

Brought  to  my  knowledge  Avhat  his  cheer  conceal'd. 
Remembrance  of  his  alter'd  lineaments 
Was  kindled  from  that  spark  ;  and  I  agniz'd 
The  visage  of  Forese.     "  Ah  !    respect 
This  wan  and  leprous  wither'd  skin,"  thus  he  45 

Suppliant  implor'd,  "  this  macerated  flesh. 
Speak  to  me  truly  of  thyself.     And  who 
Are  those  twain  spirits,  that  escort  thee  there? 
Be  it  not  said  thou  scorn'st  to  talk  with  me." 

"  That  face  of  tliino,"  I  answer'd  him,  "  which  dead  50 
I  once  bewail'd,  disposes  me  not  less 
For  weeping,  when  I  see  it  thus  transform'd. 
Say  then,  by  Heav'n,  what  blasts  ye  thus?     The  whilst 
I  wonder,  ask  not  speech  from  me  :  unapt 
Is  lie  to  speak,  whom  other  will  employs."  55 

He  thus:  "The  water  and  tlie  jtlant  we  pass'd, 
Virtue  possesses,  by  th'  eternal  will 
Infus'd,  the  which  so  pines  me.     Every  spirit, 
Whose  song  bewails  his  gluttony  indulgVl 
Too  grossly,  here  in  hunger  and  in  thirst  60 

Is  purified.     The  odour,  which  the  fruit. 
And  spray,  that  showers  upon  the  verdure,  breathe, 
Inflames  us  with  desire  to  feed  and  drink. 


202  PUKGATORY, 

Nor  once  nlono  enconi])nssing  our  route 
We  come  to  add  fresh  fuel  to  the  ])ain  :  65 

Pain,  said  I  ?  solace  rather :  for  that  will 
To  the  tree  leads  us,  by  which  Christ  was  led 
To  call  Elias,  joyful  when  he  paid 
Our  ransom  from  his  vein."     I  answering  thus  : 
"  Forese  !  from  that  day,  in  which  the  world  70 

For  Letter  life  thou  changedst,  not  five  years 
Have  circled.     If  the  power  of  sinning  more 
Were  first  concluded  in  thee,  ere  thou  knew'st 
That  kindly  grief,  which  re-espouses  us 
To  God,  how  hither  art  thon  come  so  soon  ?  75 

I  thought  to  find  thee  lower,  there,  where  time 
Is  recompense  for  time."     He  straight  replied  : 
"  To  drink  up  the  sweet  wormwood  of  affliction 
I  have  been  brought  thus  early  by  the  tears 
Stream'd   down  my   Nella's    cheeks.      Her    prayers  de- 
vout, bO 
Her  sighs  have  drawn  me  from  the  coast,  where  oft 
Expectance  lingers,  and  have  set  me  free 
From  th'  other  circles.     In  the  sight  of  God 
So  much  the  dearer  is  my  widow  priz'd, 
She  whom  I  lov'd  so  fondlj^,  as  she  ranks  85 
More  singly  eminent  for  virtuous  deeds. 
The  tract  most  barb'rous  of  Sardinia's  isle, 
Hath  dames  more  chaste  and  modester  by  far 
Than  that  wherein  I  left  her.     O  sweet  brother ! 
What  wouldst  thou  have  me  say?.    A  time  to  come       90 
Stands  full  within  my  view,  to  which  this  hour 
Shall  not  be  counted  of  an  ancient  date, 
When  from  the  pulpit  shall  be  loudly  warn'd 
Th'  unblushing  dames  of  Florence,  lest  they  bare 
Unkerchief'd  bosoms  to  the  common  gaze.  95 
What  savage  women  hath  the  world  e'er  seen, 
What  Saracens,  for  whom  there  needed  scourge 
Of  spiritual  or  other  discipline. 
To  force  them  walk  with  cov'ring  on  their  limbs  ! 
But  did  they  see,  the  shameless  ones,  that  Heav'n         100 
Wafts  on  swift  wing  toward  them,  while  I  speak, 
Their  mouths  were  ojD'd  for  howling:  they  shall  taste 


PURGATOKV.  203 

Of  sorrow  (unless  foresiglit  cheat  mc  liere) 
Or  ere  the  cheek  of  him  be  cloth'd  with  down 
Who  is  now  rock'd  witli  InUaby  asleep.  105 

Ah  !  now,  my  brother,  hide  thyself  no  more, 
Tliou  seest  how  not  I  alone  but  all 
Gaze,  where  thou  veil'st  the  intercepted  sun." 
Whence  I  replied  :  "  If  thou  recall  to  mind 
What  we  were  once  togetlier,  even  yet  110 

Ivemenibrance  of  those  days  may  grieve  thee  sore. 
That  I  forsook  that  life,  was  due  to  him 
AYho  there  precedes  me,  some  few  evenings  past, 
When  she  was  round,  who  shines  with  sister  lamp 
To  his,  that  glisters  yonder,"  and  I  show'd  115 

The  sun.     "Tis  he,  who  through  profoundest  niglit 
Of  the  true  dead  has  brought  me,  with  this  flesh 
As  true,  that  follows.     Fi-om  that  gloom  the  aid 
Of  his  sure  comfort  drew  me  on  to  climb, 
And  climbing  wind  along  this  mountain-steep,  120 

Which  rectifies  in  you  wliate'er  the  world 
Made  crooked  and  deprav'd.     I  have  his  word, 
That  he  will  bear  me  company  as  far 
As  till  I  come  where  Beatrice  dwells  : 
But  there  must  leave  me.     Virgil  is  that  spirit,  125 

Wlio  thus  hath  promis'd,"  and  I  pointed  to  him  ; 
"  The  otlier  is  that  shade,  for  whom  so  late 
Your  realm,  as  he  arose,  exulting  shook 
Through  every  pendent  cliff  and  rocky  bound." 


CANTO  XXIV. 

Our  journey  was  not  slacken'd  by  our  talk. 
Nor  yet  our  talk  by  journeying.     Still  we  spake, 
And  urg'd  our  travel  stoutly,  like  a  ship 
When  the  wind  sits  astern.     The  shadowy  forms, 
That  seem'd  things  dead  and  dead  again,  drew  in 
At  their  deep-delved  orbs  j-are  wonder  of  me, 
Perceiving  I  had  life ;  and  I  my  words 
Continued,  and  thus  spake;  "  He  journeys  uj) 
Perliaps  more  tardily  then  else  lie  would, 


204  PURGATOHY. 

For  othei's'  sako.     But  tell  me,  if  thou  know'st,  1(J 

Wliere  is  Piccarda?     Tell  mc,  if  I  see 

Any  of  mark,  among  tliis  multitude, 

Who  eye  me  tlius." — "My  .sister  (she  for  wliom, 

'Twixt  beautiful  and  good  ;  I  cannot  say 

Which  name  was  fitter)  wears  e'en  now  lier  crown,        15 

And  triumphs  in  Olympus."     Saying  this, 

He  added  :  "  Since  s])are  diet  hath  so  worn 

Our  semblance  out,  't  is  lawful  liere  to  name 

Each  one.     This,"  and  his  finger  then  he  rais'd, 

"Is  Buonaggiunta, — Buonaggiunta,  he  20 

Of  Lucca :  and  that  face  beyond  him,  pierc'd 

Unto  a  leaner  fineness  than  the  rest, 

Had  keeping  of  the  church  :  he  was  of  Tours, 

And  purges  by  wan  abstinence  away 

Bolsena's  eels  and  cups  of  muscadel."  25 

He  show'd  me  many  others,  one  by  one. 
And  all,  as  they  were  nam'd,  seem'd  well  content ; 
For  no  dark  gesture  I  discern'd  in  any. 
I  saw  through  hunger  Ubaldino  grind 
His  teeth  on  emptiness  ;  and  Boniface,  30 

That  wav'd  the  crozier  o'er  a  num'rous  flock. 
I  saw  the  Marquis,  who  had  time  erewhile 
To  swill  at  Forli  with  less  drought,  yet  so 
Was  one  ne'er  sated.     I  howe'er,  like  him. 
That  gazing  'midst  a  crowd,  singles  out  one,  35 

So  singled  him  of  Lucca  ;  for  methought 
Was  none  amongst  them  took  such  note  of  me. 
Somewhat  I  heard  him  whisper  of  Gentucca  : 
The  sound  was  indistinct,  and  mnrmur'd  there. 
Where  justice,  that  so  strips  them,  fix'd  her  sting.  40 

"  Spirit !  "  said  I,  "  it  seems  as  thou  wouldst  fain 
Speak  with  me.  Let  me  hear  thee.  JVIutual  wish 
To  converse  prompts,  which  let  us  both  indulge." 

He,  answ'ring,  straight  began :  "  Woman  is  born, 
Whose  brow  no  wim])le  shades  yet,  that  shall  make       45 
My  city  please  thee,  bUme  it  as  they  may. 
Go  then  with  this  forewarning.     If  aught  false 
My  whis])er  too  implied,  th'  event  shall  tell. 
But  say,  if  of  a  truth  1  see  the  man 


I'UllGATOUY.  205 

Of  tliat  new  lay  tli'  inventor,  which  bcyins  50 

Witli  'Ladies,  ye  that  eon  the  lore  of  love'." 

To  whom  I  thus  :  "  Count  of  me  hut  as  one 
Who  am  the  scribe  of  love  ;  that,  when  he  breathes, 
Take  up  my  pen,  and,  as  he  dictates,  write." 

"Brother!  "  said  he,  "the  hind'rance  which  once  hehl 
The  notary  with  Guittone  and  myself,  56 

Short  of  that  new  and  sweeter  style  I  hear, 
Is  now  disclos'd.     I  see  how  ye  your  ])luines 
Stretch,  as  th'  inditer  guides  them  ;  which,  no  question, 
Ours  did  not.     He  that  seeks  a  gi-ace  beyond,  60 

Sees  not  the  distance  ])arts  one  style  from  other." 
And,  as  contented,  here  he  held  his  peace. 

Like  as  the  bird,  that  winter  near  the  Nile, 
In  squared  regiment  direct  tlieir  course. 
Then  stretch  themselves  in  file  for  speedier  flight;         65 
Thus  all  the  tribe  of  s])irits,  as  they  turn'd 
Their  visage,  faster  Hed,  nimble  alike 
Through  leanness  and  desire.     And.  as  a  man, 
Tir'd  with  the  motion  of  a  trotting  steed, 
Slacks  pace,  and  stays  behind,  his  company,  70 

Till  his  o'erbreathed  lungs  keej)  temperate  time ; 
E'en  so  Forese  let  that  holy  crew 
Proceed,  behind  them  lingering  at  my  side. 
And  saying  :  "  When  shall  I  again  behold  thee  ?  " 

"  How  long  my  life  may  last,"  said  I,  "  I  know  not ;  75 
This  know,  how  soon  soever  I  return. 
My  wishes  will  before  me  have  arriA''cT. 
Sithence  the  place,  where  I  am  set  to  live, 
Is,  day  by  day,  more  scoop'd.  of  all  its  good, 
And.  elismal  ruin  seems  to  threaten  it."  80 

"  Go  now,"  he  cried  :  "  lo  !  he,  whose  guilt  is  most, 
Passes  before  my  vision,  dragg'd  at  heels 
Of  an  infuriate  beast.     Toward  the  vale. 
Where  guilt  hath  no  redemption,  on  it  speeds, 
Each  step  increasing  swiftness  on  the  last ;  85 

Until  a  blow  it  strikes,  that  leaveth  him 
A  corse  most  vilely  shatter'd.     No  long  space 
Those  wheels  have  yet  to  roll"  (thei'ewith  liis  eyes 
Look'd  up  to  heav'n)  "  ere  thou  shall  plainly  see 


206  PURGATOKY. 

That  wliich  my  words  may  not  more  plainly  tell.  90 

I  quit  thee  :  time  is  precious  here  :  I  lose 

Too  much,  thus  measuring  my  pace  with  thine." 

As  from  a  troop  of  well-rankM  chi\alry 
One  knig-ht,  more  enter])rising  than  the  rest, 
Pricks  forth  at  galloj),  eager  to  (lis])lay  95 

His  prowess  in  the  first  encounter  jn'ov'd  ; 
So  parted  he  from  us  ■with  lengtlien'd  strides, 
And  left  me  on  the  way  with  those  twain  s])irits, 
Who  were  such  mighty  marshals  of  the  world. 

When  he  beyond  us  had  so  fled,  mine  eyes  100 

No  nearer  reach'd  him,  than  my  thought  his  words, 
The  branches  of  another  fruit,  thick  hung. 
And  blooming  fresh,  appear'd.     E'en  as  our  steps 
Turn'd  thither,  not  far  off  it  rose  to  view. 
Beneath  it  were  a  multitude,  that  rais'd  105 

Their  hands,  and  shouted  forth  I  know  not  what 
Unto  the  boughs  ;  like  greedy  and  fond  brats, 
That  beg,  and  answer  none  obtain  from  liim. 
Of  whom  they  beg ;  but  more  to  draw  them  on. 
He  at  arm's  length  the  object  of  their  wish  110 

Above  them  holds  aloft,  and  hides  it  not. 

At  length,  as  undeceiv'd  they  went  their  way  : 
And  we  approach  the  tree,  who  vows  and  tears 
Sue  to  in  vain,  the  mighty  tree.     "  Pass  on. 
And  come  not  near.     Stands  higher  up  the  wood,         115 
Whereof  Eve  tasted,  and  from  it  was  ta'en 
This  plant."     Such  sounds  from  midst  the  thickets 

came. 
Whence  I,  with  either  bard,  close  to  the  side 
That  rose,  pass'd  forth  beyond.     "  Remember,"  next 
We  heard,  "  those  unblest  creatures  of  the  clouds,        120 
How  they  their  twofold  bosoms  overgorg'd 
Oppos'd  in  fight  to  Theseus :  call  to  mind 
The  Hebrews,  how  effeminate  they  stoo})'d 
To  ease  their  thii'st ;  whence  Gideon's  ranks  Avere 

thinn'd. 
As  he  to  Midian  march'd  adown  the  hills."  125 

Thus  near  one  border  coasting,  still  we  heard 
The  sins  of  gluttony,  with  woe  ere  while 


PUKGATOUY.  207 

Regiierdon'd.     Then  along  the  lonely  path, 

Once  mofe  at  large,  full  thousand  ])aces  on 

We  travel'd,  each  conteni])lativc  and  mute.  loO 

"Why  pensive  journey  tlnis  ye  three  alone?" 
Thus  suddenly  a  voice  exclainiM :  wliereat 
I  shook,  as  doth  a  scar'd  and  paltry  beast ; 
Then  rais'd  my  head  to  look  from  whence  it  came. 

Was  ne'er,  in  furnace,  glass,  or  metal  seen  135 

So  bright  and  glowing  red,  as  was  the  shape 
I  now  beheld.     "  If  ye  desire  to  mount," 
He  cried,  "  liere  must  ye  turn.     This  Avay  he  goes, 
Wlio  goes  in  quest  of  peace."     His  countenance 
Had  dazzled  me  ;  and  to  ray  guides  I  fac'd  140 

Backward,  like  one  who  walks,  as  sound  directs. 

As  when,  to  harbinger  the  dawn,  springs  up 
On  freshen'd  wing  the  air  of  Ma}',  and  breathes 
Of  fragrance,  all  impregn'd  with  herb  and  llowers, 
E'en  such  a  wind  I  felt  upon  my  front  145 

Blow  gently,  and  the  moving  of  a  wing 
Perceiv'd,  that  moving  shed  ambrosial  smell ; 
And  then  a  voice :     "  Blc-scd  are  they,  whom  grace 
Doth  so  illume,  that  appetite  in  them 
Exhaleth  no  inordinate  desire,  150 

Still  hung'ring  as  the  rule  of  temperance  wills." 

CANTO  XXV. 

It  was  an  hour,  when  he  wlio  climbs,  had  need 

To  walk  uncrippled  :  for  the  sun  had  now 

To  Taurus  the  meridian  circle  left. 

And  to  the  Scorpion  left  the  night.     As  one 

That  makes  no  pause,  but  presses  on  his  road,  5 

Whate'er  betide  him,  if  some  urgent  need 

Impel :  so  enter'd  we  upon  our  way, 

One  before  other  ;  for,  but  singly,  none 

That  steep  and  narrow  scale  admits  to  climb. 

E'en  as  the  young  stork  lifteth  up  his  wing  10 

Through  wish  to  fly,  yet  ventures  not  to  quit 
The  nest,  and  drops  it ;  so  in  me  desire 
Of  questioning  my  guide  arose,  and  fell. 


20S  ruu(;ATouv. 

Arriving  even  to  the  aet,  that  inai-ks 

A  man  ])re))ar'd  for  speeeli.     llini  all  our  haste  15 

Ilestrain'd  not,  hut  tliun  s))ake  the  sire  Ijclov'd  : 

Fear  not  to  speed  the  shaft,  that  on  tliy  lip 

Stands  tremhling  for  its  flight."     Encourag'd  tlius 

I  straight  began  :  "  How  there  can  leanness  come, 

Wliere  is  no  want  of  nourishment  to  feed?"  20 

"  If  thou,"  he  answer'd,  "  hadst  remember'd  tliee, 
How  Melenger  witli  the  Avasting  brand 
, Wasted  alike,  by  equal  fires  consum'd. 
This  would  not  trouble  thee  :  and  hadst  thou  tliought, 
ITow  in  the  mirror  your  reflected  form  2t 

With  mimic  motion  vibrates,  wliat  now  seems 
Hard,  had  appear'd  no  harder  than  the  ]^ulp 
Of  summer  fruit  mature.     But  that  thy  will 
In  certainty  may  find  its  full  repose, 

Lo  Statins  here  !  on  him  I  call,  and  pray  30 

That  he  would  now  be  healer  of  thy  wound."   . 

"  If  in  thy  presence  I  unfold  to  him 
The  secrets  of  heaven's  vengeance,  let  me  plead 
Tliine  own  injunction,  to  exculjiate  me." 
So  Statins  answer'd,  and  forthwith  began  :  85 

"  Attend  my  words,  O  son,  and  in  thy  mind 
Receive  them :  so  shall  they  be  light  to  clear 
The  doubt  thou  offer'st.     Blood,  concocted  well, 
Which  by  the  thirsty  veins  is  ne'er  im]>ib'd, 
And  rests  as  food  suiterfluous,  to  be  ta'en  40 

From  the  rcplenish'd  tabic,  in  the  heart 
Derives  effectual  virtue,  that  informs 
The  several  human  limbs,  as  being  that, 
Which  passes  through  the  veins  itself  to  make  them. 
Yet  more  concocted  it  descends,  where  shame  45 

Forbids  to  mention  :  and  from  thence  distils 
In  natural  vessel  on  another's  blood. 
There  each  unite  together,  one  dispos'd    . 
T'  endure,  to  act  the  other,  through  meet  frame 
Of  its  recipient  mould  :  that  being  reach'd,  5fl 

It  'gins  to  work,  coagulating  first ; 
Then  vivifies  what  its  own  substance  caus'd 
To  bear.     With  animation  now  indued, 


PURGATORY.  209 

The  active  virtue  (diffeiiiig  from  a  ]>lant 

No  further,  llian  that  this  is  on  tlie  way  65 

And  at  its  limit  that)  continues  yet 

To  operate,  that  now  it  moves,  and  feels, 

As  sea  sponge  clinging  to  the  rock :  and  there 

Assumes  tli'  organic  powers  its  seed  convey'd. 

This  is  the  })eriod,  son  !  at  which  the  virtue,  60 

That  from  the  generating  heait  proceeds, 

Is  ])liant  and  expansive ;  for  each  limb 

Is  in  the  heart  by  forgeful  nature  plann'd. 

IIow  babe  of  animal  becomes,  remains 

For  thy  consid'ring.     At  this  point,  more  w'ise,  65 

Than  thou  hast  err'd,  making  tlie  soul  disjoin'd 

From  ])assive  intellect,  because  he  saw 

No  organ  for  the  hitter's  use  assign'd. 

"  Open  thy  bosom  to  the  truth  that  comes. 
Know  soon  as  in  the  embryo,  to  the  brain,  70 

Articulation  is  comjilete,  then  turns 
The  primal  Mover  with  a  smile  of  joy 
On  such  great  work  of  nature,  and  imbrcathes 
New  s])irit  re])lete  with  virtue,  that  M'hat  here 
Active  it  finds,  to  its  own  substance  draws,  75 

And  forms  an  individual  soul,  that  lives, 
And  feels,  and  bends  reflective  on  itself. 
And  that  thou  less  mayst  marvel  at  the  word, 
JMark  the  sun's  heat,  how  that  to  wine  doth  change, 
Mix'd  with  the  moisture  filter'd  through  the  vine,  80 

"  When  Lachesis  hath  spun  the  thread,  the  soul 
Takes  wath  her  both  the  human  and  divine, 
Memory,  intelligence,  and  will,  in  act 
Far  keener  than  before,  the  other  })Owers 
Inactive  all  and  mute.     No  pause  allow'd,  85 

In  wond'rous  sort  self-moving,  to  one  strand 
Of  those,  where  the  de])arted  roam,  she  falls. 
Here  learns  her  destin'd  path.     Soon  as  the  place 
Receives  her,  round  the  plastic  virtue  beams, 
Distinct  as  in  the  living  limbs  before  :  90 

And  as  the  air,  when  saturate  with  showers, 
The  casual  beam  refracting,  decks  itself 
With  many  a  hue  ;  so  here  the  ambient  air 

14 


210  PUKGATOUV. 

Woaretli  tliat  form,  wliicli  influence  of  the  soul 

Iin])rints  on  it;  and  iike  tlie  flame,  tliat  where  95 

T]m  Are  moves,  tliither  follows,  so  henceforth 

The  new  form  on  the  spirit  follows  still : 

Ilence  hath  it  semblance,  and  is  shadow  call'd, 

"With  each  sense  even  to  the  sight  endued : 

Hence  speech  is  ours,  lience  laughter,  tears,  and  sighs. 

AVliich  thou  mayst  oft  have  witness'd  on  the  mount    101 

Th'  obedient  shadow  fails  not  to  present 

Whatever  varying  2)assion  moves  within  us. 

And  this  the  cause  of  what  thou  marvel'st  at." 

Now  the  last  flexure  of  our  way  we  reach'd,  105 

And  to  the  right  hand  turning,  other  care 
Awaits  us.     Here  the  rooky  precipice 
Hurls  forth  redundant  flames,  and  from  the  rim 
A  blast  upblown,  with  forcible  rebuff 
Driveth  them  back,  sequester'd  from  its  bound.  110 

Behov'd  us,  one  by  one,  along  the  side. 
That  border'd  on  the  void,  to  pass  ;  and  I 
Fear'd  on  one  hand  the  fire,  on  th'  other  fear'd 
Headlong  to  fall :  when  thus  th'  instructor  warn'd : 
"  Strict  rein  must  in  this  place  direct  the  eyes.  115 

A  little  swerving  and  the  way  is  lost." 

Then  from  the  bosom  of  the  burning  mass, 
"  O  God  of  mercy !  "  heard  I  sung  ;  and  felt 
No  less  desire  to  turn.     And  when  I  saw 
Spirits  along  the  flame  proceeding,  I  1'20 

Between  their  footsteps  and  mine  own  was  fain 
To  share  by  turns  my  view.     At  the  hymn's  close 
They  shouted  loud,  "  I  do  not  know  a  man  ;  " 
Then  in  low  voice  again  took  up  the  strain, 
Whicli  once  more  ended,  "  To  the  wood,"  they  cried,  125 
'■•  Kan  Dian,  and  drave  forth  Callisto,  stung 
With  Cytherea's  poison  :  "  then  return'd 
Unto  their  song;  then  many  a  paiv  extoll'd, 
Who  liv'd  in  virtue  chastely,  and  the  bands 
Of  wedded  love.     Nor  from  that  task,  I  ween,  130 

Surcease  they  ;  whilesoe'er  the  scorching  fire 
Enclasps  them.     Of  such  skill  appliance  needs 
To  medicine  the  wound,  that  healeth  last. 


PUROATOIiY.  '  211 

CANTO  XXVI. 

While  singly  thus  along  the  rim  we  walk'd, 

Oft  the  good  master  warn'd  me  :  "  Look  thou  well. 

Avail  it  that  I  caution  thee."     The  sun 

Now  all  the  western  clime  irradiate  chang'd 

From  azure  tinct  to  white ;  and,  as  I  pass'd,  5 

My  passing  shadow  made  the  umber'd  flame 

Burn  ruddier.     At  so  strange  a  sight  I  mark'd 

That  many  a  spirit  marvel'cl  on  his  way. 

This  bred  occasion  first  to  speak  of  me, 
"  He  seems,"  said  they,  "  no  insubstantial  frame  :  "       10 
Then  to  obtain  what  certainty  they  might, 
Stretch'd  towards  me,  careful  not  to  overpass 
The  burning  pale.     "  O  thou,  who  followest 
The  others,  haply  not  more  slow  than  they. 
But  mov'd  by  rey'reuce,  answer  me,  who  burn  15 

In  thirst  and  fire  :  nor  I  alone,  but  these 
All  for  thine  answer  do  more  thirst,  than  doth 
Indian  or  ^thiop  for  the  cooling  stream. 
Tell  us,  how  is  it  that  thou  luak'st  thyself 
A  wall  against  the  sun,  as  thou  not  yet    .  20 

Into  th'  inextricable  toils  of  death 
Hadst  enter'd?  "     Thus  spake  one,  and  I  had  straight 
Declar'd  me,  if  attention  had  not  turn'd 
To  new  appearance.     Meeting  these,  there  came, 
Midway  the  burning  path,  a  crowd,  on  whom  25 

Earnestly  gazing,  from  each  part  I  view 
The  shadows  all  press  forward,  sev'rally 
Each  snatcli  a  hasty  kiss,  and  then  away. 
E'en  so  the  emmets,  'mid  their  dusky  troops, 
Peer  closely  one  at  other,  to  spy  out  30 

Their  mutual  road  perchance,  and  how  they  thrive. 

That  friendly  greeting  parted,  ere  dispatch 
Of  the  first  onward  step,  from  either  tribe 
Loud  clamour  rises :  those,  wlio  newly  come. 
Shout  "  Sodom  and  Gomorrah  !  "  these,  "  The  cow        35 
Pasiphae  enter'd,  that  the  beast  she  woo'd 
Might  rush  unto  her  luxury,"     Then  as  cranes, 
That  part  towards  the  liipluean  mountains  fly. 


212  rURGATORY. 

Part  towards  the  Lybic  sands,  these  to  avoid 

The  iee,  and  those  tlie  sun ;  so  liastetli  off  40 

One  crowd,  advances  th'  other  ;  and  resume 

Their  first  song  wee})ing,  and  their  several  sliout. 

Again  drew  near  my  side  tlie  very  same. 
Who  liad  erewliile  besought  me,  and  tlieir  looks 
Murk'd  eagerness  to  listen.     I,  who  twice  45 

Their  will  had  noted,  spake  :  "0  spirits  secure, 
Whene'er  the  time  may  be,  of  jieaceful  end  ! 
My  limbs,  nor  crude,  nor  in  mature  old  age, 
Have  I  left  yonder  :  here  they  bear  me,  fed 
With  blood,  and  sinew-strung.     That  I  no  more  50 

May  live  in  blindness,  hence  I  tend  aloft. 
Tliere  is  a  dame  on  high,  who  wins  for  us 
This  grace,  by  which  my  mortal  through  your  realm 
I  bear.     But  may  your  utmost  wish  soon  meet 
Such  full  fruition,  that  the  orb  of  heaven,  55 

Fullest  of  love,  and  of  most  ample  space, 
Receive  you,  as  ye  tell  (upon  my  page 
Henceforth  to  stand  recorded)  who  ye  are. 
And  what  this  multitude,  that  at  your  backs 
Have  past  behyid  us."     As  one,  mountain-bred,  60 

Rugged  and  clownish,  if  some  city's  walls 
He  chance  to  enter,  round  him  stares  agape, 
Confounded  and  struck  dumb ;  e'en  such  appear'd 
Each  spirit.     But  when  rid  of  that  amaze, 
(Not  long  the  inmate  of  a  noble  heart)  65 

He,  who  before  had  question'd,  thus  resum'd. : 
"  O  blessed,  who,  for  death  preparing,  tak'st 
Experience  of  our  limits,  in  thy  bark  ! 
Their  crime,  who  not  with  us  proceed,  was  that. 
For  w^jich,  as  he  did  triumph,  Caesar  heard  70 

The  shout  of  '  queen,'  to  taunt  him.     Hence  their  cry 
Of  '  Sodom,'  as  they  parted,  to  rebuke 
Themselves,  and  aid  the  burning  by  their  sliam.e. 
Our  sinning  was  Hermaphrodite  :  but  we, 
Because  the  law  of  human  kind  we  broke,  75 

Following  like  beasts  our  vile  concupiscence, 
Hence  parting  from  them,  to  our  own  disgrace 
Record  the  name  of  lier,  by  whom  the  beast 


PURGATORY.  21. '5 

[     In  bestial  tire  was  acted.     Now  our  deerls 

Thou  kuow'nt,  and  liow  we  sinn'd.     Tf  tliou  Ijy  name     80 

Wouldst  haply  know  us,  time  ))ermits  not  now 

To  tell  so  much,  nor  can  I.     Of  myself 

Learn  what  thou  wishest.     Guinicelli  I, 

"Who  having  truly  sorrow'd  ere  my  last, 

Already  cleanse  me."     With  such  pious  joy,  85 

As  the  two  sons  upon  their  mother  gaz'd 

From  sad  Lycurgus  rescu'd,  such  my  joy 

(Save  that  I  more  represt  it)  when  I  heard 

From  his  own  lips  the  name  of  him  pronounc'd, 

Who  was  a  father  to  nie,  and  to  those  90 

My  betters,  who  have  ever  us'd  the  sweet 

And  pleasant  rhymes  of  love.     So  nought  I  heard 

Nor  spake,  but  long  time  thoughtfully  I  went, 

Gazing  on  him  ;  and,  only  for  the  fire, 

Approach'd  not  nearer.     When  my  eyes  were  fed  95 

By  looking  on  him,  with  such  solemn  pledge. 

As  forces  credence,  I  devoted  me 

Unto  his  service  Avholly.     In  reply 

He  thus  besjjake  me  :  "  What  from  thee  I  hear 

Is  gi-av'd  so  deeply  on  my  mind,  the  waves  100 

Of  Lethe  shall  not  wash  it  off,  nor  make 

A  whit  less  lively.     But  as  now  thy  oath 

Has  seal'd  the  truth,  declare  what  cause  impels 

That  love,  which  both  thy  looks  and  speech  bewray." 

"Those  dulcet  lays,"  I  answer'd,  "  which,  as  long     105 
As  of  our  tongue  the  beauty  does  not  fade, 
Shall  make  us  love  the  very  ink  that  trac'd  them." 

"  Brother  !  "  he  cried,  and  pointed  at  a  shade 
Before  him,  "  there  is  one,  whose  mother  speech 
Doth  owe  to  him  a  fairer  ornament.  110 

He  in  love  ditties  and  the  tales  of  prose 
Without  a  rival  stands,  and  lets  the  fools 
Talk  on,  who  think  the  songstei*  of  LiuK^ges 
O'ertops  him.     Rumour  and  the  popular  voice 
I'hey  look  to  more  than  truth,  and  so  confirm  115 

Opinion,  ere  by  art  or  reason  taught. 
Thus  many  of  the  elder  time  cried  up 
Guittone,  giving  him  the  prize,  till  truth 


1:14  PURrrATORY. 

By  strength  of  nniiiLers  vanqnisli'd.     If  thou  OAvn 

So  .'unple  privilege,  as  to  have  gain'd  120 

Free  entrance  to  tlie  cloister,  whereof  Christ 

Is  Abbot  of  the  college,  say  to  him 

One  paternoster  for  me,  far  as  needs 

For  dwellers  in  tliis  world,  where  ])Ower  to  sin 

No  longer  tempts  us."     Haply  to  make  way  125 

For  one,  that  follow'd  next,  when  that  was  said, 

IKr  vanish'd  through  tl)e  fire,  as  through  the  wave 

A  fish,  that  glances  diving  to  the  deep. 

I,  to  the  spirit  he  had  shown  me,  drew 
A  little  onward,  and  besought  his  name,  130 

For  which  my  heart,  I  said,  kept  gracious  room. 
He  frankly  thus  began  :  "  Thy  courtesy 
So  wins  on  me,  I  have  nor  power  nor  will 
To  hide  me.     I  am  Arnault ;  and  with  songs, 
Sorely  waymenting  for  ray  folly  past,  135 

Thorough  this  ford  of  fire  I  wade,  and  see 
The  day,  I  liope  for,  smiling  in  my  view. 
I  pray  ye  by  the  Avorth  that  guides  ye  up 
Unto  the  summit  of  the  scale,  in  time 
Kemember  ye  my  suff'rings."     With  such  words  140 

He  disappear'd  in  the  refining  flame. 


CANTO  XXVII. 

Now  was  the  sun  so  station'd,  as  when  first 

His  early  radiance  quivers  on  the  heights. 

Where  stream'd  his  Maker's  blood,  while  Libra  hangs 

Above  Hesperian  Ebro,  and  new  fires 

Meridian  flash  on  Ganges'  yellow  tide.  5 

So  day  was  sinking,  Avhen  the'  angel  of  God 
Appear'd  before  us.     Joy  was  in  his  mien. 
Forth  of  the  flame  he  stood  upon  the  brink, 
And  with  a  voice,  whose  lively  clearness  far 
Surpass'd  our  human,  "  Blessed  are  the  pure  10 

In  heart,"  lie  sang  :  then  near  him  as  we  came, 
"  Go  ye  not  further,  holy  spirits  !  "  he  cried, 
"Ere  the  fire  pierce  you  :  enter  in;  and  list 


I'URGATOUY.  215 

Attentive  to  the  song  ye  lienr  from  tlience." 

I,  when  I  lieard  liis  saying,  was  as  one  15 

Laid  in  tlie  grave.     My  huiids  together  clasp'd, 
And  n])\vard  stretcliing,  on  tlie  fire  I  h)ok'd, 
And  busy  fancy  eonjur'd  up  tlie  forms 
Erewhile  belield  alive  consum'd  in  flames. 

Til'  escorting  spirits  turn'd  with  gentle  looks  20 

Toward  me,  and  the  Mantuan  spake  :  "  My  son, 
Here  torment  thou  mayst  feel,  but  canst  not  death. 
Kemember  thee,  remember  thee,  if  I 
Safe  e'en  on  Geryon  brought  thee :  now  I  come 
More  near  to  God,  w^lt  thou  not  trust  me  now  ?  25 

Of  this  be  sure:  though  in  its  womb  that  flame 
A  thousand  years  contain'd  thee,  from  thy  head 
No  hair  should  perish.     If  thou  doubt  my  truth,  1 

A]j]»roach,  and  Avith  thy  hands  thy  vesture's  hem 
Stretch  forth,  and  for  thyself  confirm  belief.  30 

Lay  now  all  fear,  O  lay  all  fear  aside. 
Turn  hither,  and  come  onward  undismay'd." 
1  still,  though  conscience  urg'd,  no  step  advanc'd. 

When  still  he  saw  me  fix'd  and  obstinate, 
Somewhat  disturb'd  he  cried  :  "  Mark  now,  my  son,      35 
From  Beatrice  thou  art  by  this  wall 
Divided."     As  at  Thisbe's  name  the  eye 
Of  Pyramus  was  open'd  (when  life  ebb'd 
Fast  from  his  veins),  and  took  one  parting  glance. 
While  vermeil  dyed  the  mulberry  ;  thus  I  turn'd  40 

To  my  sage  guide,  relenting,  when  I  heard 
The  name,  that  springs  for  ever  in  my  breast. 

He  shook  his  forehead  ;  and,  "  How  long,"  he  said, 
"Linger  we  now?"  then  smil'd,  as  one  would  smile 
Upon  a  child,  that  eyes  the  fruit  and  yields.  45 

Into  the  fire  before  me  then  he  walk'd ; 
And  Statins,  who  erewhile  no  little  space 
Had  parted  us,  he  pray'd  to  come  behind. 

I  w^ould  have  cast  me  into  molten  glass 
To  cool  me,  when  I  enter'd  ;  so  intense  50 

Rag'd  the  conflagrant  mass.     The  sire  belov'd. 
To  comfort  me,  as  he  ])roceeded,  still 
Of  Beatrice  talk'd.     "  Her  eyes,"  saith  he. 


216  PITKGATORY. 

"  E'en  now  I  seem  to  view."     From  the  otlicr  side 

A  voice,  thiit  sang,  did  guide  iis,  and  the  \oice  55 

Following,  with  lieedful  ear,  we  issued  forth. 

There  wdiere  tl)e  path  led  upward.     "Come,"  we  lieard, 

"  Come,  blessed  of  my  Father."     Such  the  so\uuls, 

Tliat  liail'd  us  from  within  a  light,  wliich  shone 

So  radiant,  I  could  not  endure  the  view.  GO 

"The  sun,"  it  added,  "hastes:  and  evening  comes. 

Delay  not :  ere  the  western  sky  is  hung 

With  blackness,  strive  ye  for  the  pass."     Our  way 

Upright  within  the  rock  arose,  and  fac'd 

Such  part  of  heav'n,  tliat  from  before  my  steps  65 

The  beams  were  sl\rouded  of  the  sinking  sun. 

Nor  many  staii-s  were  overpast,  when  now 
By  fading  of  the  shadow  we  perceiv'd 
The  sun  behind  us  couch'd  :  and  ere  one  face 
Of  darkness  o'er  its  measureless  expanse  70 

Involv'd  th'  horizon,  and  the  night  her  lot 
Held  individual,  each  of  us  had  made 
A  stair  his  pallet :  not  that  will,  but  2>ower, 
Had  fail'd  us,  by  the  nature  of  that  mount 
Forlndden  further  travel.     As  the  goats,  75 

That  late  have  skipp'd  and  wanton'd  rapidly 
Upon  the  craggy  cliffs,  ere  they  had  ta'en 
Their  supper  on  the  herb,  now  silent  lie 
And  ruminate  beneath  the  umbrage  brown, 
AVhile  noon-day  rages;  and  the  goatherd  leans  80 

Ui>on  his  staff,  and  leaning  watches  them  : 
And  as  the  swain,  that  lodges  out  all  night 
In  quiet  by  his  flock,  lest  beast  of  prey 
Disperse  them  ;  even  so  all  three  abode, 
I  as  a  goat  and  as  the  shepherds  they,  85 

Close  pent  on  either  side  by  shelving  rock. 

A  little  glimpse  of  sky  was  seen  above ; 
Yet  by  that  little  I  beheld  the  stars 
In  magnitude  and  lustre  shining  forth 
Witli  more  than  wonted  glory.     As  I  lay,  90 

G;'.zing  on  them,  and  in  that  fit  of  musing, 
Sleep  overcame  me,  sleep,  that  bringeth  oft 
Tidings  of  future  haj).     About  the  hour, 


rUllGATORY.  217 

As  I  believe,  when  Venus  front  the  east 

First  ligliten'd  on  the  mountain,  she  wliosc  orb  95 

Seems  alway  glowing  with  the  lire  of  love, 

A  lady  young  and  beautiful,  I  dream'd, 

\Vas  i)assing  o'er  a  lea ;  and,  as  she  came, 

Methought  I  saw  her  ever  and  anon 

Bending  to  cull  the  flowers  ;  and  thus  she  sang  :  100 

"  Know  ye,  whoever  of  my  name  would  ask. 

That  I  am  Leah  :  for  my  brow  to  weave 

A  gaidand,  these  fair  hands  unwearied  ply. 

To  please  me  at  the  crystal  mirror,  here 

I  deck  me.     But  my  sister  Rachel,  she  105 

Before  iier  glass  abides  the  livelong  day, 

Iler  radiant  eyes  beholding,  charm'd  no  less, 

Than  I  with  this  delightful  task.     Her  joy 

In  contemplation,  as  in  labour  mine." 

And  now  as  glimm'ring  dawn  appear'd,  that  breaks  110 
More  welcome  to  the  pilgrim  still,  as  he 
Sojourns  less  distant  on  his  homeward  way, 
Darkness  from  all  sides  fled,  and  vrith  it  fled 
JMy  slumber  ;  whence  I  rose  and  saw  my  guide 
Already  risen.     "  That  delicious  fruit,  115 

Which  through  so  many  a  branch  the  zealous  care 
Of  mortals  roams  in  quest  of,  shall  this  day 
Appease  thy  hunger."     Such  the  words  I  heard 
From  Virgil's  lip  ;  and  never  greeting  lieard 
So  pleasant  as  the  sounds.     Within  me  straight  120 

Desire  so  grew  upon  desire  to  mount, 
Thenceforward  at  each  step  I  felt  the  Avings 
Increasing  for  my  flight.     When  we  had  run 
O'er  all  the  ladder  to  its  topmost  round, 
As  there  we  stood,  on  me  the  Mantuan  fix'd  125 

His  eyes,  and  thus  he  spake  :  "  Both  fires,  my  son, 
The  temporal  and  eternal,  thou  hast  seen, 
And  art  arriv'd,  where  of  itself  my  ken 
No  further  reaches.     I  with  skill  and  art 
Thus  fur  have  drawn  thee.     Now  thy  pleasure  take     130 
For  guide.     Tliou  hast  o'ercome  the  steeper  way, 
O'ercome  the  straighter.     Lo  !  the  sun,  that  darts 
His  beam  upon  thy  forehead  !  lo  !  the  herb, 


lilS  PUhT.ATOllY. 

Tlie  arborcts  and  flowers,  wliicli  of  itself  134 

This  land  pours  forth  i)rofnsc !     Till  those  bright  eyes 

Witli  ghidncss  come,  which,  wee])ing,  made  me  haste 

'J'o  succour  tliee,  thou  niayst  or  seat  thee  down, 

Or  wander  where  thou  wilt.     Expect  no  more 

Sanction  of  warning  voice  or  sign  from  me, 

Free  of  thy  own  arbitrement  to  choose,  140 

])iscreet,  judicious.     To  distrust  thy  sense 

Were  henceforth  error.     I  invest  thee  then 

With  crown  and  mitre,  sovereign  o'er  thyself." 


CANTO  XXVIII. 

Through  that  celestial  forest,  whose  thick  shade 

With  lively  greenness  the  new-springing  day 

Attemper'd,  eager  now  to  roam,  and  search 

Its  limits  round,  forthwith  I  left  the  bank, 

Along  the  champain  leisurely  my  way  6 

Pursuing,  o'er  the  grovmd,  that  on  all  sides 

Delicious  odour  breath'd.     A  pleasant  air, 

That  intermitted  never,  never  veer'd. 

Smote  on  my  temples,  gently,  as  a  wind 

Of  softest  influence  :  at  wliich  the  sprays,  10 

Obedient  all,  leau'd  trembling  to  that  part 

Where  first  the  holy  mountain  casts  his  shade, 

Yet  were  not  so  disordcr'd,  but  that  still 

Upon  their  top  the  feather'd  quiristers 

A]iplied  their  wonted  art,  and  with  full  joy  15 

Welcom'd  those  hours  of  prime,  and  warbled  shrill 

Amid  the  leaves,  that  to  their  jocund  lays 

Kept  tenor  ;  even  as  from  branch  to  branch. 

Along  the  piny  forests  on  tlie  shore 

01  Cliiassi,  rolls  the  gath'i-ing  melody,  20 

When  Eolus  hath  from  his  cavern  loos'd 

The  dripping  south.     Already  had  my  steps, 

Tliough  slow,  so  far  into  that  ancient  wood 

Transported  me,  I  could  not  ken  the  place 

Where  I  had  enter'd,  when  behold  !  my  path  25 

Was  bounded  by  a  rill,  which  to  the  left 


PURfiATORY.  219 

With  little  rippling  waters  bent  the  grass, 

Tliat  issued  from  its  brink.     On  eartli  no  wave 

How  clean  soe'er,  that  would  not  seem  to  have 

Some  mixture  in  itself,  compar'd  with  this,  30 

Transpicuous,  clear  ;  yet  darkly  on  it  roll'd. 

Darkly  beneath  perpetual  gloom,  which  ne^er 

Admits  or  sun  or  moon  light  thei'e  to  shine. 

My  feet  advanc'd  not ;  out  my  wond'ring  eyes 
Passed  onward,  o'er  the  streamlet,  to  survey  35 

The  tender  May-bloom,  flush'd  through  many  a  hue, 
In  prodigal  variety  :  and  there, 
As  object,  rising  suddenly  to  view. 
That  from  our  bosom  every  thought  beside 
With  the  rare  marvel  chases,  I  beheld  40 

A  lady  all  alone,  who,  singing,  went. 
And  culling  flower  from  flower,  wherewith  her  way 
Was  all  o'er  painted.     "  Lady  beautiful ! 
Thou,  who  (if  looks,  that  use  to  speak  the  heart, 
Are  Avorthy  of  our  trust),  with  love's  own  beam  45 

Dost  warm  thee,"  thus  to  her  my  speech  I  frani'd  : 
"  Ah  !  please  thee  hither  towards  the  streamlet  bend 
Thy  steps  so  near,  that  I  iiiay  list  thy  song. 
Beholding  thee  and  this  fair  place,  metliinks, 
I  call  to  mind  where  wander'd  and  how  look'd  50 

Proserpine,  in  that  season,  when  her  child 
The  mother  lost,  and  she  the  bloomy  spring." 

As  when  a  lady,  turning  in  the  dance, 
Doth  foot  it  featly,  and  advances  scarce 
One  step  before  the  other  to  the  ground  ;  -65 

0\-er  the  yellow  and  vermilion  floAvers 
Tiuis  turn'd  she  at  my  suit,  most  maiden-like, 
Valing  her  sober  eyes,  and  came  so  near. 
That  I  distinctly  cauglit  the  dulcet  sound. 
Arriving  where  the  limped  waters  now  60 

La^'d  the  green  SAvard,  her  eyes  she  deign'd  to  raise; 
That  shot  such  splendour  on  me,  as  I  Aveen 
Ne'er  glanced  from  Cytherea's,  when  her  son 
Had  sped  his  keenest  Aveapon  to  her  heart. 
Upon  the  opposite  bank  she  stood  and  smil'd ;  65 

As  through  her  graceful  fingers  shifted  still 


220  ruijOATORv, 

The  intermingling  flyes,  Avliicli  witliout  seed 

That  lofty  l:ind  unbosoms.     By  tlie  stream 

Three  paces  only  were  we  sundcr'd  :  yet, 

The  Hellespont,  where  Xerxes  pass'd  it  o'er,  70 

(A  curb  for  ever  to  the  pride  of  man) 

Was  by  Leander  not  more  hateful  held 

For  floating,  with  iidios])itable  wave 

'Twixt  Sestus  and  Abydos,  than  by  me 

That  flood,  because  it  gave  no  passage  thence.  75 

"  Strangers  ye  come,  and  haply  in  this  place, 
That  cradled  human  nature  in  its  birth, 
Won  ..'ring,  ye  not  without  suspicion  view 
My  smiles  :  but  that  sweet  strain  of  psahnody, 
'  Thou,  Lord  !  hast  made  me  glad,'  will  give  ye  light,     80 
Which  may  uncloud  your  minds.     And  thou,  who  stand'st 
The  foremost,  and  didst  make  thy  suit  to  me, 
Say  if  aught  else  thou  wish  to  hear  :  for  I 
Came  promjjt  to  answer  every  doubt  of  thine." 

She  spake  ;  and  I  replied  :  "  I  know  not  how  85 

To  reconcile  this  wave  and  rustling  sound 
Of  forest  leaves,  with  what  I  late  have  heard 
Of  opposite  report."     She  answering  thus  : 
"I  will  unfold  the  cause,  whence  that  ])roceeds, 
Which  makes  thee  wonder  ;  and  so  purge  the  cloud      90 
That  hath  enwrapt  thee.     The  First  Good,  whose  joy 
Is  only  in  himself,  created  man 
For  happiness,  and  gave  this  goodly  j^lace. 
His  ])ledge  and  earnest  of  eternal  peace. 
Favour'd  thus  highly,  through  his  own  defect  95 

He  fell,  and  here  made  short  sojourn  ;  he  fell. 
And,  for  the  bitterness  of  sorrow,  chang'd 
L;iughter  unblam'd  and  ever-new  delight. 
That  vapours  none,  exhal'd  from  earth  beneath. 
Or  from  the  waters  (which,  Avherever  heat  100 

Attracts  them,  follow),  might  ascend  thus  far 
To  vex  man's  peaceful  state,  this  mountain  rose 
So  high  toward  the  heav'n,  nor  fears  the  rage 
Of  elements  contending,  from  that  part 
Exempted,  where  the  gate  his  limit  bars.  105 

Because  the  circumambient  air  throughout 


rtJRGATORY.  221 

Willi  its  first  iin])ulse  circles  still,  unless 

Auglit  iiiter])ose  to  check  or  thwart  its  course; 

Ul>oii  the  summit,  which  on  every  side 

To  visitation  of  tl)'  imjuissive  air  110 

Is  open,  cloth  that  motion  strike,  and  makes 

Beneath  its  sway  th'  umbrageous  wood  resound: 

And  in  the  sliakcn  plant  such  power  resides, 

That  it  im])reguates  with  its  eiiicacy 

The  voyaging  breeze,  upon  whose  subtle  plume  115 

That  Avafted  flies  abi'oad  ;  and  th'  other  land 

Receiving  (as  't  is  worthy  in  itself, 

Or  in  the  clime,  that  warms  it),  doth  conceive,* 

And  from  its  womb  produces  many  a  tree 

Of  various  virtue.     This  when  thou  hast  heard,  120 

The  marvel  ceases,  if  in  yonder  earth 

Some  plant  without  ai)parent  seed  be  found 

To  fix  its  fibrous  stem.     And  further  learn, 

That  Avith  prolific  foison  of  all  seeds. 

This  holy  plain  is  fill'd,  and  in  itself  125 

Bears  fruit  that  ne'  er  was  pluck'd  on  other  soil. 

"  The  water,  thou  behold'st,  springs  not  from  vein, 
As  stream,  that  intermittently  repairs 
And  spends  his  j^ulse  of  life,  but  issues  forth 
From  fountain,  solid,  undecaying,  sure  ;  130 

And  by  the  will  omnific,  full  supply 
Feeds  whatsoe'er  on  either  side  it  pours ; 
On  this  devolv'd  with  power  to  take  away 
Remembrance  of  offence,  on  that  to  bring 
Remembrance  back  of  every  good  deed  done.  135 

From  whence  its  name  of  Lethe  on  this  part ; 
On  th'  other  Eunoe  :  both  of  which  must  first 
Be  tasted  ere  it  work.;  the  last  exceeding 
All  flavours  else.     Albeit  thy  thirst  may  now 
Be  Avell  contented,  if  I  here  break  off,  140 

No  more  revealing :  yet  a  corollary 
I  freely  give  beside :  nor  deem  my  w^ords 
Less  grateful  to  thee,  if  they  somewhat  pass 
The  stretch  of  promise.     TJiey,  whose  verse  of  yore 
The  golden  age  recorded  and  its  bliss,  1-45 

On  the  Pai'iiassian  mountain,  of  this  place 


222  ruuGAToiiY. 

Perhaps  had  dream'd.     Here  was  man  guiltless,  here 

Perpetual  spring  and  every  fruit,  and  this 

The  far-fam'd  nectar."     Turning  to  the  bards, 

When  she  had  ceas'd,  I  noted  in  their  looks  150 

A  smile  at  her  conclusion  ;  then  my  face 

Again  directed  to  the  lovely  dame. 


CANTO  XXIX. 

Singing,  as  if  enamour'd,  she  resum'd 

And  clos'ci  the  song,  with  "  Blessed  they  whose  sins 

Are  cover'd."     Like  the  wood-nymphs  then,  that  tripp'd 

Singly  across  the  sylvan  shadows,  one 

Eager  to  view  and  one  to  'scape  the  sun,  5 

So  mov'd  she  on,  against  the  current,  up 

The  verdant  rivage.     I,  her  mincing  step 

Observing,  with  as  tardy  step  pursued. 

Between  us  not  an  hundred  paces  trod, 
The  bank,  on  each  side  bending  equally,  10 

Gave  me  to  face  the  orient.     Nor  our  way 
Far  onward  brought  us,  .wlien  to  me  at  once 
She  turn'd,  and  cried  :  "  My  brother !  look  and  hearken." 
And  lo !  a  sudden  lustre  ran  across 

Through  the  great  forest  on  all  parts,  so  bright  15 

I  doubted  Avhether  lightning  were  abroad  ; 
But  that  expiring  ever  in  the  spleen. 
That  doth  unfold  it,  and  this  during:  still 
And  waxing  still  in  splendor,  made  me  question 
What  it  might  be  :  and  a  sweet  melody  20 

Ran  throug-Ii  the  luminous  air.     Then  did  I  chide 
With  warrantable  zeal  the  hardihood 
Of  our  first  parent,  for  that  there  were  earth 
Stood  in  obedience  to  the  heav'ns,  she  only, 
Woman,  the  creature  of  an  hour,  endur'd  not  25 

Restraint  of  any  veil :  which  had  she  borne 
Devoutly,  joys,  ineffable  as  these. 
Had  from  ithe  first,  and  long  time  since,  been  mine. 

While  through  that  wilderness  of  primy  sweets 
That  never  fade,  suspense  I  walk'd,  and  yet  30 


PUUGATOllY.  223 

Ex])ectant  of  beatitude  more  high, 

Before  us,  Hke  a  bhizing  fire,  the  air 

Under  the  green  bouglis  glow'd ;  and,  for  a  song, 

Distinct  the  sound  of  melody  was  lieard. 

0  ye  thrice  holy  virgins  !  for  your  sakes  35 
If  e'er  I  suffer'd  hunger,  cold  and  watching, 

Occasion  calls  on  me  to  crave  your  bounty. 

Now  through  my  breast  let  Helicon*  his  stream 

Pour  copious  ;  and  Urania  with  her  choir 

Arise  to  aid  me  :  while  the  verse  unfolds  40 

Things  that  do  almost  mock  the  grasp  of  thought. 

Onward  a  space,  Avhat  seem'd  seven  trees  of  gold, 
The  intervening  distance  to  mine  eye 
Falsely  presented  ;  but  when  I  was  come 
So  near  them,  that  no  lineament  was  lost  45 

Of  those,  with  which  a  doubtful  object,  seen 
Remotely,  plays  on  the  misdeeming  sense, 
Then  did  the  faculty,  that  ministers 
Discourse  to  reason,  these  for  tapers  of  gold 
Distinguish,  and  i'  th'  singing  trace  the  sound  50 

"  Hosanna."  Above,  their  beauteous  garniture 
Flam'd  Avith  more  ample  lustre,  than  the  moon 
Through  cloudless  sky  at  midnight  in  her  full. 

1  turn'd  me  full  of  wonder  to  my  guide ; 

And  he  did  answer  with  a  countenance  55 

Charg'd  with  no  less  amazement :  Avhence  my  view 
Keverted  to  those  lofty  things,  which  came 
So  slowly  moving  towards  us,  that  the  bride 
Would  have  outstrijit  them  on  her  bridal  day. 

The  lady  called  abou'd  :  "  Why  thus  yet  burns  60 

Affection  in  thee  for  these  living  lights, 
And  dost  not  look  on  that  which  follows  them?  " 

I  straightway  mark'd  a  tribe  behind  them  walk, 
As  if  attendant  on  their  leaders,  cloth'd 
With  raiment  of  such  whiteness,  as  on  earth  65 

Was  never.     On  my  left,  the  wat'ry  gleam 
Borrow'd,  and  gave  me  back,  when  there  I  look'd. 
As  in  a  mirror,  my  left  side  portray'd. 

When  I  had  chosen  on  the  river's  edge 
Such  station,  that  the  distance  of  the  stream  70 


224  rUKGATOUY. 

Alone  (lid  separutc  me  ;  there  I  stay'd 

My  steps  for  clearer  prospect,  and  beheld 

The  lianics  go  onward,  leaving,  as  they  went, 

The  air  beliind  tlieiu  painted  as  with  trail 

Of  liveliest  ])encils  !  so  distinct  were  mark'd  75 

All  those  sev'n  listed  colours,  wlience  the  sun 

IMaketh  his  bow,  and  Cynthia  her  zone. 

These  streaming  gonfalons  did  flow  beyond 

My  vision ;  and  ten  paces,  as  I  guess, 

Parted  the  outermost.     Beneath  a  sky  80 

So  beautiful,  came  four-and-twenty  elders. 

By  two  and  two,  with  flower-de-luces  croAvn'd. 

All  sang  one  song  :  "  Blessed  be  thou  among 

The  daughters  of  Adam  !  and  thy  loveliness 

Blessed  for  ever  !  "     After  that  the  flowers,  85 

And  the  fresh  herblets,  on  the  opj)osite  brink, 

Were  free  from  that  elected  race  ;  as  light 

In  heav'n  doth  second  light,  came  after  them 

Four  animals,  each  crown'd  with  verdurous  leaf. 

With  six  wings  each  was  plum'd,  the  plumage  full         90 

Of  eyes,  and  th'  eyes  of  Argus  would  be  such. 

Were  they  endued  with  life.     Reader,  more  rhymes 

I  will  not  waste  in  shadowing  forth  their  form  : 

For  other  need  no  straitens,  that  in  this 

I  may  not  give  my  bounty  room.     But  read  95 

Ezekiel ;  for  he  j^aints  them,  from  the  north 

How  he  beheld  them  come  by  Chebar's  flood, 

In  wliirlwind,  cloud  and  Are  ;  and  even  such 

As  thou  shalt  find  them  character'd  by  him, 

Here  were  they;  save  as  to  the  pennons  ;  there,  100 

From  him  departing,  John  accords  with  me. 

The  space,  surrounded  by  the  four,  enolos'd 
A  car  triumphal :  on  two  wheels  it  came 
Drawn  at  a  Gryphon's  neck  ;  and  he  above 
Stretch'd  either  wing  uplifted,  'tween  the  midst  105 

And  the  three  listed  hues,  on  each  side  three  ; 
So  that  the  wings  did  cleave  or  injure  none ; 
And  out  of  sight  they  rose.     The  members,  far 
As  he  was  bird,  were  golden ;  white  the  rest 
With  vermeil  iutervein'd.     So  beautiful  110 


.^       '■-'- '—         -  11    r — T[-—ffl— -"■"•■  ■—■^^"-'■-■''■^'''^ 


PUKGATORT.  225 

A  car  in  Rome  ne\M-  grac'd  Augustiis  pomp, 

Or  Africamis'  :  e'en  the  sun's  itself 

Were  poor  to  this,  that  cliariot  of  the  sun 

Erroneous,  Avhich  in  blazing  ruin  fell 

At  Tellus'  pray'r  devout,  by  the  just  doom  115 

I         Mysterious  of  all-  seeing  Jove.     Three  nymphs 

At  the  right  wheel,  came  circling  in  smooth  dance  ; 

Tlie  one  so  ruddy,  that  her  form  had  scarce 

Been  known  within  a  furnace  of  clear  flame : 
j         The  next  did  look,  as  if  the  flesh  and  bones  120 

i         Were  emerald  :  snow  new-fallen  seem'd  the  third. 

Now  seem'd  the  white  to  lead,  the  ruddy  now  ; 
I         And  from  her  song  who  led,  the  others  took 

Their  measure,  swift  or  slow.     At  th'  other  wheel, 
I         A  band  quaternion,  each  in  purple  clad,  125 

S         Advanc'd  witli  festal  step,  as  of  them  one 
I         The  rest  conducted,  one,  upon  whose  front 
I         Three  eyes  were  seen.     In  rear  of  all  this  groupe, 
\         Two  old  men  I  beheld,  dissimilar 

\         In  raiment,  but  in  port  and  gesture  like,  130 

I         Solid  and  mainly  grave  ;  of  whom  the  one 
I         Did  bhow  himself  some  favour'd  counsellor 
j         Of  the  great  Coan,  him,  whom  nature  made 
J         To  serve  the  costliest  creature  of  her  tribe. 
I         His  fellow  mark'd  an  opposite  intent,  135 

\         Bearing  a  sword,  whose  glitterance  and  keen  edge, 
i         E'en  as  I  view'd  it  with  the  flood  between, 
I        A])pall'd  me.     Next  four  others  I  beheld. 

Of  humble  seeming :  and,  behind  them  all, 
\        ()ne  single  old  man,  sleeping  as  he  came,  140 

\        With  a  shrewd  visage.     And  these  seven,  each 

Like  the  first  troop  were  habited,  but  wore 

No  braid  of  lilies  on  their  temples  wreath'd. 

Rather  with  roses  and  each  vermeil  flower, 

A  sight,  but  little  distant,  might  have  sworn,  145 

That  they  were  all  on  fire  above  their  brow. 
I  Whenas  the  car  was  o'er  against  me,  straight 

]         Was  heard  a  thund'ring,  at  whose  voice  it  seem'd 
i         The  chosen  multitude  were  stay'd  ;  for  there, 
i         With  the  fii'st  C'e;si<rns,  made  thev  S(;lemn  halt.  150 


226  PUKGAT0KY. 

CANTO  XXX. 

SooN"  as  the  polar  liglit,  which  never  knows 

Setting  nor  rising,  nor  the  shadowy  veil 

Of  other  cloud  than  sin,  fair  ornament 

Of  tlie  first  heav'n,  to  duty  each  one  there 

Safely  convoying,  as  that  lower  doth  6 

The  steersman  to  his  port,  stood  firmly  fix'd  ; 

Forthwith  the  saintly  tribe,  who  in  the  van 

Between  the  Gryphon  and  its  radiance  came, 

Did  turn  them  to  the  car,  as  to  their  rest : 

And  one,  as  if  commission'd  from  above,  10 

In  holy  chant  thrice  shouted  forth  aloud  : 

"  Come,  spouse,  from  Libanus  ! "  and  all  the  rest 

Took  up  the  song. — At  the  last  audit  so 

The  blest  shall  rise,  from  forth  his  cavern  each 

Uplifting  lightly  his  new-vested  flesh,  15 

As,  on  the  sacred  litter,  at  the  voice 

Authoritative  of  that  elder,  sprang 

A  hundred  ministers  and  messengers 

Of  life  eternal.     "  Blessed  thoii !  who  com'st !  " 

And,  "O,"  they  cried,  "from  full  hands  scatter  ye  20 

Uuwith'ring  lilies  ; "  and,  so  saying,  cast 

Flowers  over  head  and  round  them  on  all  sides. 

I  have  beheld,  ere  now,  at  break  of  day, 
The  eastern  clime  all  roseate,  and  the  sky 
OjDpos'd,  one  deep  and  beautiful  serene,  25 

And  the  sun's  face  so  shaded,  and  with  mists 
Attemper'd  at  his  rising,  that  the  eye 
Long  while  endur'd  the  sight :  thus  in  a  cloud 
Of  flowers,  that  from  those  hands  angelic  rose. 
And  down,  within  and  outside  of  the  car,  30 

Fell  showering,  in  white  veil  wnth  olive  wreath'd, 
A  virgin  in  my  view  appear'd,  beneath 
Green  mantle,  rob'd  in  hue  of  living  flame  : 
And  o'er  my  spirit,  that  in  former  days 
Within  her  presence  had  abode  so  long,  35 

No  shudd'ring  terror  crept.     Mine  eyes  no  more 
Had  knowledge  of  her;  yet  there  mov'd  from  her 
A  hidden  virtue,  at  whose  touch  awak'd, 


PUIJGATORY.  'Si  I 

The  power  of  ancient  love  was  slroiig  witliin  nie. 

No  sooner  on  my  vision  .streaming,  smote  40 

Tlie  lieav'nly  intliience,  which  years  })a8t,  and  e'en 
In  chihlhood,  thrill'd  me,  tlian  towards  Virgil  I 
Turn'd  me  to  leftward,  ])anting,  like  a  babe, 
That  flees  for  refnge  to  his  mother's  breast, 
If  auglit  have  terrified  or  work'd  him  woe:  45 

And  would  have  cried  :  "There  is  no  dram  of  blood, 
That  dotli  not  quiver  in  me.     The  old  flame 
Throws  out  clear  tokens  of  reviving  fire  ;  " 
But  Virgil  had  bereav'd  us  of  himself, 
Virgil,  my  best-lov'd  father;  Virgil,  he  50 

To  whom  I  gave  me  w])  for  safety  :  nor. 
All,  our  prime  mother  lost,  avail'd  to  save 
My  undew'd  cheeks  from  blur  of  soiling  tears. 

"  Dante,  weep  not,  that  Virgil  leaves  thee  :  nay, 
Weep  thou  not  yet :  behoves  thee  feel  the  edge  55 

Of  other  sword,  and  thou  shalt  weep  for  that." 

As  to  tlie  prow  or  stern,  some  admiral 
Paces  the  deck,  inspiriting  his  crew. 
When  'mid  the  sail-yards  all  hands  ply  aloof ; 
Thus  on  the  left  side  of  the  car  I  saw,  60 

(Turning  me  at  the  sound  of  mine  own  name, 
Which  here  I  am  compell'd  to  register) 
Tlie  virgin  station'd,  who  before  appeared 
Veil'd  in  that  festive  shower  angelical. 

Towards  me,  across  the  stream,  she  bent  lier  eyes;     65 
Though  from  her  brow  the  veil  descending,  bound 
With  foliage  of  Minerva,  suffer'd  not 
That  I  beheld  her  clearly ;  then  with  act 
Full  royal,  still  insulting  o'er  her  thrall. 
Added,  as  one,  who  speaking  keepeth  back  70 

The  bitterest  saying,  to  conclude  the  speech  : 
"  Observe  me  well.     I  am,  in  sooth,  I  am 
Beatrice.     What !  and  hast  thou  deign'd  at  last 
Approach  the  mountain?     Knewest  not,  O  man  ! 
Thy  happiness  is  here  ?"     Down  fell  mine  eyes  75 

On  the  clear  fount,  but  there,  myself  espying, 
Recoil'd,  and  sought  the  greensward :  such  a  weight 
Of  shame  was  on  my  forehead.     With  a  mien 


228  PUKGATORY. 

Of  tliat  stern  majesty,  which  dotli  surround 

A  mother's  presence  to  her  awe-struck  cliild,  80 

Slie  look'd  ;  a  flavour  of  sucli  bitterness 

Was  mingled  in  lier  pity.     There  her  words 

Brake  off,  and  suddenly  the  angels  sang : 

"  In  thee,  O  gracious  Lord,  my  hope  hath  been  :  " 

But  went  no  farther  than,  "  Thou  Lord,  hast  set  85 

My  feet  in  ample  room."     As  snow,  that  lies 

Amidst  the  living  rafters  on  the  back 

Of  Italy  congeal'd  when  drifted  high 

And  closely  pil'd  by  rough  Sclavonian  blasts, 

Breathe  but  the  land  wliereon  no  shadow  falls.  90 

And  straightway  melting  it  distils  away, 

Like  a  fire-wasted  taper  :  thus  was  I, 

Witliout  a  sigh  or  tear,  or  ever  these 

Did  sing,  that  with  the  chiming  of  heav'n's  sphere, 

Still  in  their  warbling  chime  :  but  when  the  strain         95 

Of  dulcet  symphony,  express'd  for  me 

Their  soft  comjiassion,  more  than  could  the  words 

"  Virgin,  why  so  consum'st  him  ?"  then  the  ice, 

Congeal'd  about  my  bosom,  turn'd  itself 

To  spirit  and  water,  and  with  anguish  forth  100 

Gush'd  through  the  lips  and  eyelids  from  the  heart. 

Upon  the  chariot's  right  edge  still  she  stood, 
Immovable,  and  thus  address'd  her  words 
To  those  bright  semblances  with  pity  touch'd : 
"Ye  in  th'  eternal  day  your  vigils  keep,  105 

So  that  nor  night  nor  slumber,  with  close  stealth, 
Conveys  from  you  a  single  step  in  all 
The  goings  on  of  life  :  thence  with  more  heed 
I  shape  mine  answer,  for  his  car  intended. 
Who  there  stands  weeping,  that  the  sorrow  now  110 

May  equal  the  transgression.     Not  alone 
Through  operation  of  the  mighty  orbs. 
That  mark  each  seed  to  some  predestin'd  aim, 
As  with  aspect  or  fortunate  or  ill 

The  constellations  meet,  but  through  benign  115 

Largess  of  heav'nly  graces,  Avhich  rain  down 
From  such  a  height,  as  mocks  our  vision,  this  man 
Was  in  the  freshness  of  liis  being,  such, 


PUIIGATOUY.  2li!) 

So  qifled  virtunlly,  tliat  in  him 

All  better  li.'ibits  woud'rously  l>ad  thrivM.  120 

The  more  of  kindly  strength  is  in  the  soil, 

So  mucli  doth  evil  seed  and  lack  of  culture 

JNIar  it  tlie  more,  and  make  it  run  to  wildne.ss. 

These  looks  sometime  upheld  him  ;  for  I  sliow'd 

JNIy  youthful  eyes,  and  led  liim  by  tlieir  liglit  12;") 

In  upright  walking.     Soon  as  I  had  i-eachM 

The  threshold  of  my  second  age,  and  chang'd 

JNIy  mortal  for  immortal,  then  he  left  me. 

And  gave"himself  to  others.     When  from  liesli 

To  spirit  I  had  risen,  and  increase  1.30 

Of  beauty  and  of  virtue  circled  me, 

I  was  less  dear  to  him,  and  valued  less. 

His  steps  were  turn'd  into  deceitful  ways, 

Following  false  images  of  good,  that  make 

No  promise  perfect.     Nor  avaiJ'd  me  aught  135 

To  sue  for  inspirations,  with  the  which, 

I,  both  in  dreams  of  night,  and  otherwise, 

Did  call  him  back  ;  of  them  so  little  reck'd  him. 

Such  depth  he  fell,  that  all  device  was  short 

Of  his  preserving,  save  that  he  should  view  140 

The  childi-en  of  perdition.     To  this  end 

I  visited  the  purlieus  of  the  dead  : 

And  one,  who  hath  conducted  him  thus  high, 

Receiv'd  my  supj'lications  urg'd  with  weeping. 

It  were  a  breaking  of  C4od's  high  decree,  145 

If  Lethe  should  be  past,  and  such  food  tasted 

Without  the  cost  of  some  repentant  tear." 


CANTO  XXXI. 

"  O  THOU  !  "  her  words  she  thus  without  delay 
Resuming,  turn'd  their  point  on  me,  to  whom 
They  but  with  lateral  edge  seem'd  harsh  before, 
"  Say  thou,  who  stand'st  beyond  the  holy  stream, 
If  this  be  true.     A  charge  so  grievous  needs 
Thine  own  avowal."     On  my  faculty 
Such  strange  amazement  hung,  the  voice  expir'd 


230  rUIiOATOUT. 

Iin])crfect,  ere  its  oro;aiis  c:ave  it  birtli. 

A  little  space  refraining,  tlien  she  spake  : 
"What  dost  thou  muse  on  ?     Answer  me.     The  wave 
On  thy  remembrances  of  evil  yet  11 

Hath  done  no  injury."     A  mingled  sense 
Of  fear  and  of  confusion,  from  my  lips 
Did  sucli  a  "  Yea  "  produce,  as  needed  help 
Of  vision  to  interpret.     As  when  breaks  15 

In  act  to  be  discharg'd,  a  cross-bow  bent 
Beyond  its  pitch,  both  nerve  and  bow  o'erstretch'd, 
The  flagging  weapon  feebly  hits  the  mark  ; 
Thus,  tears  and  sighs  forth  gushing,  did  I  burst 
Beneath  the  heavy  load,  and  thus  my  voice  20 

Was  slacken'd  on  its  way.     She  straight  began : 
"  When  my  desire  invited  thee  to  love 
The  good,  which  sets  a  bound  to  our  aspirings, 
What  bar  of  thwarting  foss  or  linked  chain 
Did  meet  thee,  that  thou  so  should'st  quit  the  hope 
Of  further  progress,  or  what  bait  of  ease  26 

Or  promise  of  allurement  led  thee  on 
Elsewhere,  that  thou  elsewhere  should'st  rather  wait  ?  " 

A  bitter  sigh  I  drew,  then  scarce  found  voice 
To  answer,  hardly  to  these  sounds  my  lips  30 

Gave  utterance,  wailing  :  "  Thy  fair  looks  AvithdraAvn, 
Things  present,  with  deceitful  pleasures,  turn'd 
My  ste]>s  aside."     She  answering  spake  :  "  Iladst  thou 
Been  silent,  or  denied  what  thou  avow'st. 
Thou  hadst  not  hid  thy  sin  the  more  :  such  eye  35 

Observes  it.     But  v^'hene'er  the  sinner's  cheek 
Breaks  forth  into  the  precious-streaming  tears 
Of  self-accusing,  in  our  court  the  wheel 
Of  justice  doth  run  counter  to  the  edge. 
Howe'er  that  thou  may'st  profit  by  thy  shame  40 

For  errors  past,  and  that  henceforth  more  strength 
May  arm  thee,  when  thou  hear'st  the  Syren-voice, 
Lay  thou  aside  the  motive  to  tliis  grief, 
And  lend  attentive  ear,  while  I  unfold 
How  opposite  a  way  my  buried  flesh  45 

Should  have  impell'd  thee.     Never  didst  thou  spy 
In  art  or  nature  aught  so  j^assing  sweet, 


PURGATORY.  231 

As  were  the  limbs,  tliat  in  their  beauteous  frame 

Enclos'd  me,  and  are  scatter'd  now  in  dust. 

If  sweetest  thing  thus  fail'd  thee  with  my  death,  50 

What,  afterward,  of  mortal  sliould  thy  wish 

Have  tempted?     Wlien  thou  first  hadst  felt  the  dart 

Of  perishable  things,  in  my  departing 

For  better  realms,  thy  wing  thou  should'st  have  })run'd 

To  follow  me,  and  never  stoop'd  again  55 

To  'bide  a  second  blow  for  a  slight  girl, 

Or  other  gaud  as  transient  and  as  vain. 

The  new  and  inexperienc'd  bird  awaits. 

Twice  it  may  be,  or  thrice,  the  fowler's  aim ; 

But  in  the  sight  of  one,  whose  plumes  are  full,  60 

Id  vain  the  net  is  spread,  the  arrow  wing'd." 

I  stood,  as  children  silent  and  asham'd 
Stand,  list'ning,  with  their  eyes  upon  the  earth, 
Acknowledging  their  fault  and  self-condemn 'd. 
And  she  resuni'd  :  "  If,  but  to  hear  thus  pains  thee,       65 
Raise  thou  thy  beard,  and  lo  !  what  sight  shall  do  !  " 

With  less  reluctance  yields  a  stvirdy  holm, 
Rent  from  its  fibres  by  a  blast,  that  blows 
From  off  the  pole,  or  from  larbas'  land, 
Than  I  at  her  behest  my  visage  rais'd  :  70 

And  thus  the  face  denoting  by  the  beard, 
I  mai'k'd  the  secret  sting  her  words  convey'd. 

No  sooner  lifted  I  mine  aspect  up. 
Than  downward  sunk  that  vision  I  beheld 
Of  goodly  creatures  vanish  ;  and  mine  eyes  75 

Yet  unassur'd  and  wavering,  bent  their  light 
On  Beatrice.     Towards  the  animal, 
Who  joins  two  natures  in  one  form,  she  turn'd. 
And,  even  imder  shadow  of  her  veil, 

And  parted  by  the  verdant  rill,  that  flow'd  80 

Between,  in  loveliness  appear'd  as  much 
Her  former  self  surpassing,  as  on  earth 
All  others  she  surpass'd.     Remorseful  goads 
Shot  sudden  through  me.     Each  thing  else,  the  more 
Its  love  had  late  beguil'd  me,  now  the  more  85 

Was  loathsome.     On  my  heart  so  keenly  smote 
The  bitter  consciousness,  that  on  the  ground 


232 


]'lIH(iATOI4Y. 


O'crpower'd  I  fell :  .ind  what  my  state  was  then, 

She  knows  who  was  the  cavise.     When  now  my  strengtli 

Flow'cl  back,  returning  outward  from  the  heart,  90 

The  lady,  Avliom  alone  I  first  had  seen, 

I  found  above  me.     "Loose  me  not,"  she  cried  : 

"Loose  not  thy  hold  ;  "  and  lo  !  had  dragg'd  me  high 

As  to  my  neck  into  tbe  stream,  while  she, 

Still  as  she  drew  me  after,  swept  along,  "  95 

Swift  as  a  shuttle,  bounding  o'er  the  wave. 

The  blessed  shore  approaching  then  was  heard 
So  sweetly,  "  Tu  asperges  me,"  that  I 
May  not  remember,  much  less  tell  the  sound. 

The  beauteous  dame,  her  arms  expanding,  clasp'd 
My  temples,  and  inmierg'd  me,  where  't  was  fit  101 

The  wave  should  drench  me  :  and  thence  raising  up, 
Within  the  fourfold  dance  of  lovely  nymjihs 
Presented  me  so  lav'd,  and  with  their  arm 
They  each  did  cover  me.     "  Here  are  we  nymphs,       105 
And  in  the  heav'n  are  stars.     Or  ever  earth 
Was  visited  of  Beatrice,  we 
Appointed  for  her  handmaids,  tended  on  her. 
We  to  her  eyes  will  lead  thee  ;  but  the  light 
Of  gladness  that  is  in  them,  Avell  to  scan,  110 

Those  yonder  three,  of  deeper  ken  than  ours. 
Thy  sight  shall  quicken."     Thus  began  their  song; 
And  then  they  led  me  to  the  Gryphon's  breast. 
While,  turn'd  toward  us,  Beatrice  stood. 
"  Spare  not  thy  vision.     We  have  stationed  thee         11  f) 
Before  the  emeralds,  whence  love  erewhile 
ITath  drawn  his  weapons  on  thee."     As  they  spake, 
A  thousand  fervent  wishes  rivited 
Mine  eyes  upon  her  beaming  eyes,  that  stood 
Still  fix'd  toward  the  Gryphon  montionless.  120 

As  the  sun  strikes  a  mirroi",  even  thus 
Within  those  orbs  the  twyfold  being  shone, 
For  ever  varying,  in  one  figure  now 
Reflected,  now  in  other.     Reader  !  muse 
How  wond'rous  in  my  sight  it  seem'd  to  mark  125 

A  thing,  albeit  steadfast  in  itself, 
Vet  in  its  imag'd  semblance  mutable. 


r 


rURGATOTlY.  '283 

Full  of  amaze,  and  joyous,  wliile  my  soul 
Fed  on  the  viand,  -wliereof  still  desire 
Grows  with  satiety,  the  other  three  130 

With  gesture,  that  declar'd  a  loftier  line, 
Advane'd  :  to  tlieir  own  carol  on  they  came 
Dancing  in  festive  ring  angelical. 

"  Turn,  Beatrice  !  "  was  tlieir  song  :  "  O  turn 
Thy  saintly  sight  on  this  thy  faithful  one,  lo5 

Who  to  behold  thee  many  a  wearisome  pace 
Hath  measur'd.     Gracious  at  our  pray'r  vouchsafe 
Unveil  to  him  thy  cheeks:  that  he  may  mark 
Thy  second  beauty,  now  conceal'd."     O  splendour! 
O  sacred  light  eternal !  Avho  is  he  140 

So  pale  with  musing  in  Pierian  shades, 
Or  with  that  fount  so  lavishly  imbued, 
Whose  spirit  should  not  fail  him  in  th'  essay 
To  represent  thee  such  as  thou  didst  seem, 
When  under  coj»e  of  the  still-chiming  heaven  145 

Thou  gav'st  to  open  air  thy  charms  reveal'd  ? 


CANTO  XXXII. 

Mine  eyes  with  such  an  eager  coveting, 

Were  bent  to  rid  them  of  their  ten  years'  thirst, 

No  other  sense  Avas  waking  :  and  e'en  they 

Were  fenc'd  on  either  side  from  heed  of  aught ; 

So  tangled  in  its  custom'd  toils  that  smile  f) 

Of  saintly  brightness  drew  me  to  itself, 

When  forcibly  toward  the  left  my  sight 

The  sacred  virgins  turn'd  ;  for  from  their  lij^s 

I  heard  the  warning  sounds  :  "  Too  fix'd  a  gaze  !  " 

Awhile  my  vision  labor'd  ;  as  when  late  10 

U])on  the'  o'erstrained  eyes  the  sun  hath  smote  : 
But  soon  to  lesser  object,  as  the  view 
Was  now  recover'd  (lesser  in  resjiect 
To  that  excess  of  sensible,  whence  late 
I  had  perforce  been  sunder'd)  on  their  right  15 

I  mark'd  that  glorious  army  wheel,  and  turn, 
Against  the  sun  and  sev'nfold  lights,  their  front. 


234  PURGATORY. 

As  wlien,  tlieir  bucklers  for  protection  raisM, 

A  well-r;iii_2;'<l  troop,  witli  portly  banners  ciirl'd, 

Wheel  circling,  ere  the  whole  can  change  their  ground  : 

E'en  thus  the  goodly  regiment  of  heav'n  21 

Proceeding,  all  did  pass  us,  ere  the  car 

Had  slop'd  his  beam.     Attendant  at  the  wheels 

The  damsels  turn'd ;  and  on  the  Gryphon  mov'd 

The  sacred  burden,  with  a  pace  so  smooth,  25 

No  feather  on  him  trembled.     The  fair  dame 

Who  through  the  wave  had  drawn  me,  companied 

By  Statins  and  myself,  pursued  the  wheel, 

Whose  orbit,  rolling,  mark'd  a  lesser  arch. 

Through  the   high   wood,  now  void    (the    more    her 
blame,  30 

Who  by  the  serpent  was  beguil'd)  I  past 
With  step  in  cadence  to  the  harmony 
Angelic,     Onward  had  we  mov'd,  as  far 
Perchance  as  arrow  at  three  several  flights 
Full  wing'd  had  sped,  when  from  her  station  down        35 
Descended  Beatrice.     With  one  voice 
All  murmur'd  "  Adam,"  circling  next  a  plant 
Despoil'd  of  flowers  and  leaf  on  every  bough. 
Its  tresses,  spreading  more  as  more  they  rose, 
Were  such,  as  'midst  their  forest  wilds  for  height  40 

The  Indians  might  have  gaz'd  at.     "  Blessed  thou  ! 
Gryphon,  whose  beak  hath  never  pluck'd  that  tree 
Pleasant  to  taste :  for  hence  the  appetite 
Was  warp'd  to  evil."     Round  the  stately  trunk 
Thus  shouted  forth  the  rest,  to  whom  return'd  45 

The  animal  twice-gender'd  :  "  Yea :  for  so 
The  generation  of  the  just  are  sav'd." 
And  turning  to  the  chariot-pole,  to  foot 
He  drew  it  of  the  widow'd  branch,  and  bound 
There  left  unto  the  stock  whereon  it  grew.  50 

As  when  large  floods  of  radiance  from  above 
Stream,  with  that  radiance  mingled,  which  ascends 
Next  after  setting  of  the  scaly  sign, 
Our  plants  then  burgein,  and  each  wears  anew 
His  wonted  colours,  ere  the  sun  have  yok'd  55 

Beneath  another  star  his  flamy  steeds  ; 


PUROATORY.  235 

Tlius  ]Mitting  fortli  a  liuo,  more  faint  than  rose, 
And  deeper  than  the  violet,  was  renew'd 
The  plant,  erewhile  in  all  its  branches  bare. 

Uneartlily  was  the  hymn,  wliich  then  arose.  60 

I  understood  it  not,  nor  to  the  end 
Endur'd  the  harmony.     Had  I  tlie  skill 
To  pencil  fortli,  how  clos'd  tli'  unjjitying  eyes 
Slumb'ring,  when  Syrinx  warbled,  (eyes  that  paid 
So  dearly  for  their  watching,)  then  like  ])ainter,  65 

That  with  a  model  paints,  I  might  design 
The  manner  of  my  falling  into  sleep. 
But  feign  who  will  the  slumber  cunningly; 
I  pass  it  by  to  when  I  wak'd,  and  tell 
How  suddenly  a  flash  of  splendour  rent  70 

The  curtain  of  my  sleep,  and  one  cries  out : 
"  Arise,  what  dost  thou  ?  "     As  the  chosen  three, 
On  Tabor's  mount,  admitted  to  behold 
The  blossoming  of  that  fair  tree,  Avhose  fruit 
Is  coveted  of  angels,  and  doth  make  75 

Perpetual  feast  in  heaven,  to  themselves 
Returning  at  the  word,  whence  deeper  sleej'ts 
Were  broken,  that  they  their  tribe  dimiuish'd  saw, 
Both  Moses  and  Elias  gone,  and  chang'd 
The  stole  tlieir  master  wore  :  thus  to  myself  80 

Returning,  over  me  beheld  I  stand 
The  piteous  one,  who  cross  the  stream  had  bi'ouglit 
Mv  steps.     "  And  where,"  all  doubting,  I  exclaim'd, 
"  Is  Beatrice  ?  "— "  See  her,"  she  replied, 
"  Beneath  the  fresh  leaf  seated  on  its  root.  8-^ 

Behold  th'  associate  choir  that  circles  her. 
The  others,  with  a  melody  more  sweet 
And  more  profound,  journeying  to  higher  realms, 
Upon  the  Gry]ihon  tend."     If  there  lier  words 
Were  clos'd,  I  know  not ;  but  mine  eyes  had  now  00 

Ta'en  view  of  her,  by  whom  all  other  thoughts 
Were  barr'd  admittance.     On  the  very  ground 
Alone  she  sat,  as  she  had  there  been  left 
A  guard  upon  the  wain,  which  I  beheld 
Bound  to  the  twyform  beast.     The  seven  nymphs  95 

Did  make  themselves  a  cloister  round  about  her, 


286  pinir.ATouY.  ' 

And  in  tlieir  Imnds  iijilield  tliosc  liij^lits  secure 
From  blast  septentrion  iuid  the  gusty  south. 

"A  little  wliile  thou  shalt  be  forester  here  : 
And  citizen  shalt  be  for  ever  with  me,  100 

Of  that  true  Home,  whei-ein  Clirist  dwells  a  Roman. 
To  ])rofit  the  misguided  world,  keep  now 
Thine  eyes  upon  the  car ;  and  what  thou  secst, 
Take  heed  thou  Avrite,  returning  to  that  place." 

Thus  Beatrice  :  at  whose  feet  inclin'd  105 

Devout,  at  her  behest,  my  thought  and  eyes, 
I,  as  she  bade,  directed.     Never  fire, 
With  so  swift  motion,  forth  a  stormy  cloud 
Leap'd  downward  from  the  Avelkin's  farthest  bound, 
As  I  beheld  the  bird  of  Jove  descending  110 

Pounce  on  the  tree,  and,  as  he  rush'd,  the  rind. 
Disparting  crush  beneath  him,  buds  much  more 
And  leaflets.     On  the  car  with  all  his  might 
He  struck,  whence,  staggering  like  a  ship,  it  reel'd, 
At  random  driv'n,  to  starboard  now,  o'ercome,  11-5 

And  now  to  larboard,  by  the  vaulting  waves. 

Next  si)ringing  up  into  the  chariot's  womb 
A  fox  I  saw,  with  hunger  seeming  })in'd 
Of  all  good  food.     But,  for  his  ugly  sins 
The  saintly  maid  rebuking  him,  away  120 

Scamp'ring  lie  turn'd,  fast  as  his  hide-bound  corpse 
Would  bear  him.     Next,  from  Avhence  before  he  came, 
I  saw  the  eagle  dart  into  the  hull 
O'  til'  car,  and  leave  it  with  his  feathers  lin'd  ; 
And  then  a  voice,  like  that  which  issues  forth  11^5 

P^rom  heart  with  sorrow  riv'd,  did  issue  forth 
From  heav'n,  and,  "  O  poor  bark  of  mine  !"  it  cried, 
"  How  badly  art  thou  freighted !  "     Then,  it  seem'd. 
That  the  earth  open'd  between  either  wlieel, 
And  I  beheld  a  dragon  issue  thence,  loO 

That  through  the  chariot  fix'd  his  forked  train  ; 
And  like  a  wasp  that  draggeth  back  the  sting, 
So  drawing  forth  his  baleful  train,  he  dragg'd 
Part  of  the  bottom  forth,  and  went  his  Avay 
Exulting.     What  remnin'd,  as  lively  turf  135 

With  green  herb,  so  did  clothe  itself  with  plumes, 


PUKGATOKr.  237 

Whicli  liaply  had  witli  i)iir|)ose  chaste  and  kind 

Ut'L'u  offerM  ;  ;viid  tliorewith  were  cloth'd  tlio  wheels, 

Both  one  and  other,  and  the  beam,  so  quickly, 

A  sigh  were  not  breath'd  sooner.     Thus  transform'd,  140 

The  holy  structure,  through  its  several  parts, 

Did  put  forth  heads,  three  on  the  beam,  and  one 

On  every  side  ;  the  first  like  oxen  horn'd, 

I>ut  with  a  single  horn  upon  their  front 

The  four.     Like  monster  sight  hath  never  seen.  145 

O'er  it  methought  there  sat,  secure  as  rock 

On  mountain's  lofty  top,  a  shameless  whore. 

Whose  ken  rov'd  loosely  round  her.     At  her  side. 

As  't  were  that  none  might  bear  her  off,  I  saw 

A  giant  stand  ;  and  evci-  and  anon  150 

They  mingled  kisses.     But,  her  lustful  eyes 

Chancing  on  me  to  wander,  that  fell  minion 

Scourg'd  her  from  head  to  foot  all  o'er  ;  then  full 

Of  jealousy,  and  fierce  with  rage,  unloos'd 

The  monster,  and  di-agg'd  on,  so  far  across  155 

The  forest,  that  from  me  its  shades  alone 

Shielded  the  harlot  and  the  uew-form'd  brute. 


CANTO  XXXIII. 

"  The  heathen.  Lord  !  are  come  !  "  responsive  thus, 

The  trinal  now,  and  now  the  virgin  band 

Quaternion,  their  sweet  psalmody  began, 

Weeping;  and  Beatrice  listen'd,  sad 

And  sighing,  to  the  song,  in  such  a  mood,  5 

That  Mary,  as  she  stood  beside  the  cross, 

Was  scarce  more   chang'd.      But  when   they   gave  her 

place 
To  speak,  then,  risen  upright  on  her  feet. 
She,  with  a  colour  glowing  bright  as  fire, 
Did  answer  :  "  Yet  a  little  while,  and  ye  10 

Shall  see  me  not ;  and,  my  beloved  sisters, 
Again  a  little  while,  and  ye  shall  see  me." 
Before  her  then  she  marshall'd  all  the  seven, 


238  PUKGATORY. 

And,  beck'niiio;  only  niotion'd  nie,  tlie  dame, 

And  that  remaining  .saire,  to  follow  her.  15 

So  on  she  pass'd  ;  and  had  not  set,  I  Aveen, 
Her  tenth  step  to  the  gronnd,  when  with  mine  eyes 
Her  eyes  encounter'd  ;  and,  with  visage  mild, 
"  So  mend  thy  pace,"  she  cried,  "  that  if  my  words 
Address  thee,  thou  mayst  still  be  aptly  plac'd  20 

To  hear  them."     Soon  as  duly  to  her  side 
I  now  had  hasten'd  :  "  Brother  !  "  she  began, 
"  Why  mak'st  thou  no  attempt  at  questioning, 
As  thus  we  Avalk  together  ?  "     Like  to  those 
Wlio,  speaking  with  too  reverent  an  awe  25 

Before  their  betters,  draw  not  forth  the  voice 
Alive  unto  their  lips,  befel  me  then 
That  I  in  sounds  imperfect  thus  began  : 
"Lady!  Avhat  I  have  need  of,  that  thou  know'st, 
And  what  will  suit  my  need."     She  answering  thus  : 
"  Of  tearfulness  and  shame,  I  will,  that  thou  30 

Henceforth  do  rid  thee  :  that  thou  s])eak  no  more, 
As  one  Avho  dreams.     Thus  far  be  taught  of  me  : 
The  vessel,  which  thou  saw'st  the  serpent  break. 
Was  and  is  not :  let  him,  who  hath  the  blame,  35 

Ho])e  not  to  scare  God's  vengeance  with  a  sop. 
Without  an  heir  for  ever  shall  not  be 
That  eagle,  he,  who  left  the  chariot  plum'd. 
Which  monster  made  it  first  and  next  a  prey. 
Plainly  I  view,  and  therefore  s])eak,  the  stars  40 

E'en  now  approaching,  whose  conjunction,  free 
From  all  impediment  and  bar,  brings  on 
A  season,  in  the  which,  oile  sent  from  God, 
(Five  hundred,  five,  and  ten,  do  mark  liim  out) 
That  foul  one,  and  th'  accom]>lice  of  her  guilt,  45 

The  giant,  both  shall  slay.     And  if  perchance 
My  saying,  dark  as  Themis  or  as  Sphinx, 
Fail  to  persuade  thee,  (since  like  them  it  foils 
The  intellect  with  blindness)  yet  ere  long- 
Events  shall  be  the  NnTads,  that  will  solve  50 
This  knotty  riddle,  and  no  damage  light 
On  flock  or  field.     Take  heed  ;  and  as  these  words 
By  me  are  utter'd,  teach  them  even  so 


rUKGATOKY.  239 

To  those  ■\vho  live  iliat  life,  whicli  is  a  race 

To  death  :  and  when  thou  writ'st  them,  keep  in  mind   55 

jNot  to  conceal  how  thou  hast  seen  tiie  ])lant, 

Tliat  twice  hath  now  been  spoil'd.     This  whoso  robs, 

This  Avhoso  plucks,  with  bl;\,si)hemy  of  deed 

Sins  against  God,  who  for  his  use  alone 

Creating  hallow'd  it.     For  taste  of  this,  60 

In  pain  and  in  desire,  five  thousand  years 

And  upAvard,  the  fii'st  soul  did  yearn  for  him, 

Who  punish'd  in  himself  the  fatal  gust. 

"  Thy  reason  slumbers,  if  it  deem  this  height 
And  summit  thus  inverted  of  the  plant,  05 

Without  due  cause  :  and  were  not  vainer  thoughts, 
As  Elsa's  numbing  waters,  to  thy  soul, 
And  their  fond  pleasures  had  not  dyed  it  dark 
As  Py ramus  the  mulberry,  thou  hadst  seen, 
In  such  momentous  circumstance  alone,  70 

God's  equal  justice  morally  im])lied 
In  the  forbidden  tree.     But  since  I  mark  thee 
In  understanding  harden'd  into  stone. 
And,  to  that  hardness,  spotted  too  and  stain'd, 
So  that  thine  eye  is  dazzled  at  ray  word,  75 

I  will,  that,  if  not  written,  yet  at  least 
Painted  thou  take  it  in  thee,  for  the  cause. 
That  one  brings  home  his  staff  inwreath'd  with  palm." 

I  thus  :    "  As  wax  by  seal,  that  changeth  not 
Its  impress,  now  is  stamj^'d  my  brain  b}^  thee.  80 

But  wherefore  soars  thy  Avish'd-for  speech  so  high 
Beyond  my  sight,  that  loses  it  the  more. 
The  more  it  strains  to  reach  it?  " — "  To  the  end 
That  thou  mayst  know,"    she  answer'd  straight,   "  tlie 

school, 
That  thou  hast  follow'd ;  and  how  far  behind,  85 

When  following  my  discourse,  its  learning  halts  : 
And  mayst  behold  your  art,  from  the  divine 
As  distant,  as  the  disagreement  is 
'  Twixt  earth  and  heaven's  most  high  and  rapturous  orb." 

"  I  not  remember,"  I  replied,  "  that  e'er  90 

I  was  estrang'd  from  thee,  nor  for  such  fault 
Doth  conscience  chide  me."     Smiling  she  return'd: 


240  runGATORv. 

"  If  thou  canst  not  rcmoinber,  call  to  mind 

IIow  lately  thou  hast  drunk  of  Lethe's  wave  ; 

7\nd,  sure  as  smoke  (h)th  indicate  a  llame,  95 

In  that  forgetfuluess  itself  conclnde 

lilanie  from  thy  alienated  will  incurr'd. 

From  henceforth  verily  my  words  shall  be 
\        As  naked  as  will  suit  them  to  ai^peai- 

I        In  thy  unpractis'd  view."     More  sparkling  now,  109 

I        And  with  retarded  course  the  sun  possess'd 
(        The  circle  of  mid-day,  that  varies  still 
j        As  th'  aspect  varies  of  each  several  clime, 
j        When,  as  one,  sent  in  vaward  of  a  troop 
I       For  escort,  pauses,  if  perchance  he  spy  105 

•        Vestige  of  somewhat  strange  and  rare  :  so  paus'd 
\        The  sev'nfold  hand,  arriving  at  the  verge 

Of  a  dun  umbrage  hoar,  such  as  is  seen, 
}        Beneath  green  leaves  and  gloomy  branches,  oft 
I        To  overbrow  a  bleak  and  alpine  cliff.  110 

I        And,  where  they  stood,  before  them,  as  it  seem'd, 
I        I  Tigris  and  Eu])hrates  both  beheld, 
I        Forth  from  one  fountain  issue  ;  and,  like  friends, 

Linger  at  parting.     "  O  enlight'ning  beam  ! 
I        O  glory  of  our  kind  !  beseech  thee  say  115 

I        What  water  this,  which  from  one  source  deriv'd 
I        Itself  removes  to  distance  from  itself  ?  " 
\  To  such  entreaty  answer  thus  was  made : 

I        "  Entreat  Matilda,  that  she  teach  thee  this." 

And  here,  as  one,  who  clears  himself  of  blame  120 

Imputed,  the  fair  dame  return'd :  "  Of  me 
I        He  this  and  more  hath  learnt ;  and  I  am  safe 

That  Lethe's  water  hath  not  hid  it  from  liim." 
j  And  Beatrice  :  "  Some  more  pressing  care 

\        That  oft  the  memory  'reaves,  perchance  hath  made      125 
;        His  mind's  eye  dark.     But  lo  !  where  Eunoe  flows  ! 
I       Lead  thither  ;  and,  as  thou  art  wont,  revive 
I        His  fainting  virtue."     As  a  coui'teous  spirit, 
i       That  proffers  no  excuses,  but  as  soon 
I        As  he  hath  token  of  another's  will,  130 

;        Makes  it  his  own ;  when  she  had  ta'en  me,  thus 
\       The  lovely  maiden  niov'd  her  on,  and  call'd 


PURGATORY.  241 

To  Statins  witli  rin  uir  most  lady-like  : 
"  Come  thou  witli  him."     Were  further  space  allow'd, 
Then,  Reader,  might  I  sing,  though  but  in  part,  185 

That  beverage,  with  Mdiose  sweetness  I  had  ne'er 
Been  sated.     But,  since  all  the  leaves  are  full, 
Ap])ointed  for  this  second  strain,  mine  art 
With  warning  bridle  checks  me.     I  return'd 
From  the  most  holy  wave,  regenerate,  140 

E'en  as  new  ])lants  renew'd  with  foliage  new, 
Pure  and  made  apt  for  mounting  to  the  stars. 

16 


PARADISE. 


CANTO  I. 

His  glory,  by  whose  miglit  all  things  are  iiiov'd, 

Pierces  the  universe,  and  in  one  part 

Sheds  more  res])lendence,  elsewliere  less.     In  heav'n, 

Tliat  largeliest  of  his  light  partakes,  was  I, 

Witness  of  things,  which  to  relate  again  5 

Sur])asseth  power  of  him  who  comes  from  thence  ; 

For  that,  so  near  approaching  its  desire 

Our  intellect  is  to  such  depth  absorb'd, 

Tliat  memory  cannot  follow.     Nathless  all, 

That  in  my  thoughts  I  of  that  sacred  realm  10 

Could  store,  shall  now  be  matter  of  my  song. 

Benign  Apollo  !  this  last  labour  aid, 
And  make  me  such  a  vessel  of  thy  worth, 
As  thy  own  laurel  claims  of  me  belov'd. 
Thus  far  hath  one  of  steep  Parnassus'  brows  15 

iSufiic'd  me  ;  henceforth  there  is  need  of  both 
For  my  remaining  enterprise.     Do  thou 
Enter  into  my  bosom,  and  there  breathe 
So,  as  when  Marsyas  by  thy  hand  was  dragg'd 
Forth  from  Ids  limbs  unshcath'd.     O  power  divine  !      20 
If  thou  to  me  of  thine  impart  so  much. 
That  of  that  hap])y  realm  the  shadow'd  form 
Trac'd  in  my  thoughts  I  may  set  forth  to  view, 
Tliou  shalt  behold  me  of  thy  favour'd  tree 
Come  to  the  foot,  and  crown  myself  with  leaves;  25 

■M2 


PAHADISE.  243 

For  to  tliat  honour  lliou,  mid  my  liigli  (heme 

Will  fit  me.     If  but  seldom,  mighty  Sire  ! 

To  grace  liis  triumj)h  gathers  theuce  a  wreath 

Ciesar  or  bard  (luore  shame  for  liuman  wills 

Deprav'd)  joy  to  the  Delphic  god  must  spring  30 

From  the  Pierian  foliage,  when  one  breast 

Is  witli  such  thirst  insjnr'd.     From  a  small  spark 

(ireat  flame  hath  risen  :  after  me  percliance 

Otliers  with  better  voice  may  pray,  and  gain 

From  the  Cirrhrean  city  answer  kind.  35 

Through  divers  passages,  the  world's  bright  lamp 
Rises  to  mortals,  but  through  that  Avhich  joins 
Four  circles  with  the  threefold  cross,  in  best 
Course,  and  in  happiest  constellation  set 
He  comes,  and  to  the  worldly  wax  best  gives  40 

Its  temper  and  impression.     Morning  there, 
Here  eve  was  by  almost  such  passage  made  ; 
And  whiteness  had  o'ersjiread  that  heinisphere, 
Blackness  the  other  part ;  when  to  the  left 
I  saw  Beatrice  tuni'd,  and  on  the  sun  45 

Gazing,  as  never  eagle  fix'd  his  ken. 
As  from  the  first  a  second  beam  is  wont 
To  issue,  and  reflected  upwards  rise. 
E'en  as  a  pilgrim  bent  on  his  return. 
So  of  her  act,  that  through  the  eyesight  pass'd  50 

Into  my  fancy,  mine  was  form'd  ;  and  straight, 
Beyond  our  mortal  wont,  I  fix'd  mine  eyes 
Upon  the  sun.     Much  is  allow'd  us  there. 
That  here  exceeds  our  pow'r ;  thanks  to  the  place 
Made  for  the  dwelling  of  the  human  kind.  55 

I  suffer'd  it  not  long,  and  yet  so  long 
That  I  beheld  it  bick'ring  sparks  around, 
As  iron  that  comes  boiling  from  the  fire. 
And  suddenly  upon  the  day  ap])ear'd 
A  day  new-ris'n,  as  he,  \vho  hath  the  power,  60 

Had  with  another  sun  bedeck'd  the  sky. 

Her  eyes  fast  fix'd  on  the  eternal  wheels, 
Beatrice  stood  unmov'd  ;  and  I  with  ken 
Fix'd  upon  her,  from  upward  gaze  remov'd, 
At  her  aspect,  such  inwardly  became  65 


244  PAHADTSK, 

As  Glaiicus,  wlieii  lie  tasted  of  tlic  herb, 

Tlint  made  liim  peer  among  tlic  ocean  gods ; 

Words  may  not  tell  of  that  transhunian  change  : 

And  therefore  let  the  example  serve,  though  weak. 

For  those  whom  grace  hath  better  i)roof  in  store.  70 

If  I  were  only  Avhat  thou  didst  create, 
Tlien  newly,  Love  !  by  whom  tlie  hcav'n  is  rul'd, 
Tliou  know'st,  who  by  tliy  light  didst  bear  me  up. 
Whenas  the  Avheel  Avliich  thou  dost  ever  guide, 
Desired  Spirit !  with  its  harmony  75 

Temper'd  of  thee  and  measur'd,  charm'd  mine  ear, 
Then  seem'd  to  me  so  much  of  heav'u  to  blaze 
With  the  sun's  flame,  that  rain  or  flood  ne'er  made 
A  lake  so  broad.     The  newness  of  the  sound. 
And  that  great  light,  inflam'd  me  with  desire,  80 

Keener  than  e'er  was  felt,  to  know  their  cause. 

Whence  she  who  saw  me,  clearly  as  myself, 
To  calm  my  troubled  mind,  before  I  ask'd, 
Open'd  her  lips,  and  gracious  thus  began  : 
"  With  false  imagination  thou  thyself  85 

Mak'st  dull,  so  that  thou  seest  not  the  thing. 
Which  thou  hadst  seen,  liad  that  been  shaken  off. 
Thou  art  not  on  the  earth  as  thou  believ'st ; 
For  light'ning  scap'd  from  its  own  proper  place 
Ne'er  ran,  as  thou  hast  hither  now  return'd."  90 

Although  divested  of  my  first-rais'd  doubt. 
By  those  brief  words,  accomj^anied  with  smiles, 
Yet  in  new  doubt  was  I  entangled  more. 
And  said:  "Already  satisfied,  I  rest 

From  admiration  deep,  but  now  admire  95 

How  I  above  those  lighter  bodies  rise," 

Whence,  after  utt'rance  of  a  piteous  sigh. 
She  tow'rds  me  bent  her  eyes,  with  such  a  look, 
As  on  her  frenzied  child  a  mother  casts  ; 
Then  thus  beo-an  :  "  Among  themselves  all  things         100 
Have  order;  and  from  hence  the  form,  which  makes 
The  universe  resemble  God.     In  this 
The  higher  creatures  see  the  printed  stepkS 
Of  that  eternal  worth,  which  is  the  end 
Whither  the  line  is  drawn.     All  natures  lean,  105 


pAKAnisE.  245 

In  this  tlicir  order,  diversely,  some  more, 

Some  less  apiiroacliiiig  to  their  i)rimal  source. 

Thus  tliey  to  different  liaA'ens  are  niov'd  on 

Tlirough  the  vast  sea  of  being,  and  each  one 

With  instinct  giv'n,  that  bears  it  in  its  course;  110 

Tliis  to  the  lunar  sphere  directs  the  fire, 

Tliis  prompts  the  hearts  of  mortal  animals, 

This  the  brute  earth  together  knits,  and  binds. 

Nor  only  creatures,  void  of  intellect, 

Are  aim'd  at  by  this  bow;  but  even  those,  115 

That  have  intelligence  and  love,  are  pierc'd. 

That  Providence,  who  so  well  orders  all, 

With  her  own  light  makes  ever  calm  the  lioaven, 

In  which  the  substance,  that  hath  greatest  S2)eed, 

Is  turn'd  :  and  thither  now,  as  to  our  seat  120 

Predestin'd,  we  are  carried  by  the  force 

Of  that  strong  cord,  that  never  looses  dart, 

But  at  fair  aim  and  glad.     Yet  is  it  true, 

That  as  ofttimes  but  ill  accords  the  form 

To  the  design  of  art,  through  sluggishness  125 

Of  unrejilying  matter,  so  this  course 

Is  sometimes  quitted  by  the  creature,  who 

Hath  power,  directed  thus,  to  bend  elsewhere; 

As  from  a  cloud  the  fire  is  seen  to  fall. 

From  its  original  imjiulse  warp'd,  to  earth,  130 

By  vicious  fondness.     Thou  no  more  admire 

Thy  soaring,  (if  I  rightly  deem,)  than  lapse 

Of  torrent  down'vvards  from  a  mountain's  height. 

There  Avould  in  thee  for  wonder  be  more  cause, 

If,  free  of  hind'rance,  thou  hadst  fix'd  thyself  135 

Below,  like  fire  unmoving  on  the  earth." 

So  said,  she  turn'd  toward  the  heav'n  her  face. 


CANTO  II. 

All  ye,  who  in  small  bark  have  following  sail'd, 
Eager  to  listen,  on  the'  advent'rous  track 
Of  my  proud  keel,  that  singing  cuts  its  way. 
Backward  return  with  speed,  and  your  own  shores 


2'1:6  PARADISE. 

Revisit,  nor  put  out  to  open  sea,  5 

Where  losing  nie,  perclinnce  ye  may  remain 

Bewilder'd  in  deep  maze.     The  way  I  pass 

Ne'er  yet  was  run  :  Minerva  breatlies  the  gale, 

Apollo  guides  me,  and  another  Nine 

To  my  rapt  sight  the  arctic  beams  reveal,  10 

Ye  other  few,  who  have  outstretch'd  the  neck 

Timely  for  food  of  angels,  on  which  here 

They  live,  yet  never  know  satiety, 

Through  the  deep  brine  ye  fearless  may  put  out 

Your  vessel,  marking  well  the  furrow  broad  15 

Before  you  in  the  wave,  that  on  both  sides 

Equal  returns.     Those,  glorious,  who  pass'd  o'er 

To  Colchos,  wonder'd  not  as  ye  will  do, 

When  they  saw  Jason  following  the  plough. 

The  increate  perpetual  thirst,  that  draws  20 

Toward  the  realm  of  God's  own  form,  bore  us 
Swift  almost  as  the  heaven  ye  behold. 

Beatrice  upward  gaz'd,  and  I  on  her, 
And  in  such  space  as  on  the  notch  a  dart 
Is  plac'd,  then  loosen'd  flies,  I  saw  myself  25 

Arriv'd,  where  ^vond'rous  thing  engag'd  my  sight. 
Whence  she,  to  whom  no  work  of  mine  was  hid. 
Turning  to  me,  with  as])ect  glad  as  fair, 
Bespake  me  :  "  Gratefully  direct  thy  mind 
To  God,  through  whom  to  this  first  star  we  come."        30 

Me  seem'd  as  if  a  cloud  had  cover'd  us. 
Translucent,  solid,  firm,  and  polish'd  bright, 
Like  adamant,  Avhicli  the  sun's  beam  had  smit. 
Within  itself  the  ever-during  pearl 

Receiv'd  us,  as  the  wave  a  ray  of  light  35 

Receives,  and  rests  unbroken.     If  I  then 
Was  of  corporeal  frame,  and  it  ti-anscend 
Our  weaker  thought,  how  one  dimension  thus 
Another  could  endure,  which  needs  must  be 
If  body  enter  body,  how  much  more  40 

Must  the  desire  inflame  us  to  belrold 
That  essence,  which  discovers  by  what  means 
God  and  our  nature  join'd  !     There  will  be  seen 
That  which  we  hold  through  faith,  not  shown  by  proof. 


PARADISE.  247 

But  in  itself  iiitclliuil)!)'  pliiin,  45 

E'en  us  the  truth  that  uiiui  at  first  believes. 

I  answered  :  "  Lady  !  I  with  thouglits  devout, 
Such  as  I  best  can  iVanie,  give  tlianks  to  llini, 
Who  hath  remov'd  me  from  the  mortal  world. 
But  tell,  I  pray  thee,  whence  the  gloomy  s])ots  50 

U))on  this  body,  Avliich  below  on  earth 
Give  rise  to  talk  of  Cain  in  fabling  quaint?" 

She  somewhat  smil'd,  tlien  sj)ake  :  "  If  mortals  err 
In  their  opinion,  when  the  key  of  sense 
Unlocks  not,  surely  wonder's  weapon  keen  55 

Ought  not  to  pierce  thee  ;  since  thou  find'st,  the  wings 
Of  reason  to  ])ursue  tlie  senses'  flight 
Are  sliort.     But  what  thy  own  thouglit  is,  declare." 

Then  I :  "  What  various  here  above  a])pears, 
Is  caus'd,  I  deem,  by  bodies  dense  or  rare."  60 

She  then  resum'd  :  "Thou  certainly  wilt  see 
In  falsehood  tliy  belief  o'erwhelm'd,  if  well 
Thou  listen  to  the  arguments,  which  I 
Shall  bring  to  face  it.     The  eighth  sphere  displays 
Numberless  liglits,  the  Mdiich  in  kind  and  size  65 

May  be  remark'd  of  different  aspects  ; 
If  rare  or  dense  of  that  were  cause  alone, 
One  single  virtue  then  would  be  in  all. 
Alike  distributed,  or  more,  or  less. 

Different  virtues  needs  must  be  the  fruits  70 

Of  formal  principles,  and  these,  save  one, 
Will  by  thy  reasoning  be  destroy'd.     Beside, 
If  rarity  were  of  that  dusk  the  cause, 
Which  thou  inquirest,  either  in  some  part 
That  planet  must  throughout  be  void,  nor  fed  75 

AVitli  its  own  matter ;  or,  as  bodies  share 
Their  fat  and  leanness,  in  like  manner  this 
Must  in  its  volume  change  the  leaves.     The  first, 
If  it  were  true,  had  through  the  sun's  eclipse 
Been  manifested,  by  transparency  80 

Of  light,  as  through  aught  rare  beside  effus'd. 
But  this  is  not.     Therefore  remains  to  see 
The  other  cause  :  and  if  the  other  fall, 
Erroneous  so  must  prove  what  seem'd  to  thee. 


248  PAIIAOISK. 

If  not  from  side  to  side  tliis  rarity  85 

Pass  tliroiigl),  there  needs  must  Ijg  a  limil,  wlience 

Its  contrary  no  furtlicr  lets  it  pass. 

And  hence  tlie  beam,  that  from  Avithout  ])rooecds, 

]\[u8t  be  pour'd  back,  as  colour  comes,  tlirough  glass 

Reflected,  Avhich  behind  it  lead  conceals.  90 

Now  Avilt  thou  say,  that  there  of  murkier  hue 

Than  in  the  other  ])art  the  ray  is  shown, 

]>y  being  thence  refracted  farther  back. 

From  this  perplexity  will  free  thee  soon 

Exi)erience,  if  thereof  thou  trial  make,  95 

The  fountain  Avhence  your  arts  derive  their  streams. 

Three  mirrors  shalt  thou  take,  and  two  remove 

From  thee  alike,  and  more  remote  the  third. 

Betwixt  the  former  pair,  shall  meet  thine  eyes ; 

Then  turn'ct  toward  them,  cause  behind  thy  back         100 

A  light  to  stand,  that  on  the  three  shall  shine, 

And  thus  reflected  come  to  thee  from  all. 

Though  that  beheld  most  distant  do  not  stretch 

A  space  so  ample,  yet  in  brightness  thou 

Will  own  it  equalling  the  rest.     But  now,  105 

As  under  snow  the  ground,  if  the  warm  ray 

Smites  it,  remains  dismantled  of  the  hue 

And  cold,  that  cover'd  it  before,  so  thee, 

Dismantled  in  thy  mind,  I  will  inform 

With  light  so  lively,  that  the  tremulous  beam  110 

Sliall  quiver  where  it  falls.     Within  the  heaven, 

Whei-e  peace  divine  inhabits,  circles  round 

A  body,  in  whose  virtue  lies  the  being 

Of  all  that  it  contains.     The  following  heaven, 

That  hath  so  many  lights,  this  being  divides,  115 

Through  different  essences,  from  it  distinct. 

And  yet  contain'd  within  it.     The'  other  orbs 

Their  separate  distinctions  variously 

Dispose,  for  their  own  seed  and  produce  apt. 

Thus  do  these  organs  of  the  world  proceed,  120 

As  thou  beholdest  now,  from  step  to  step, 

Thcii-  influences  from  above  deriving. 

And  thence  transmitting  downwards.     Mark  me  well, 

Ifow  through  this  passage  to  the  truth  I  ford, 


TAKADISE.  249 

The  truth  thou  lov'st,  that  tliou  hencefortli  alone,        125 
May'st  know  to  keep  the  shallows,  safe,  untold. 
"  The  virtue'  and  motion  of  the  sacred  orbs. 
As  mallet  by  the  workman's  hand,  must  needs 
By  blessed  movers  be  ins})ir'd.     This  heaven, 
Made  beauteous  by  so  many  luminaries,  130 

From  the  deep  spirit,  that  moves  its  cii'cling  sphere, 
Its  image  takes  an  impress  as  a  seal : 
And  as  the  soul,  that  dwells  within  your  dust. 
Through  members  different,  yet  together  form'd. 
In  different  pow'rs  resolves  itself;  e'en  so  135 

The  intellectual  efficacy'  unfolds 
Its  goodness  multiplied  througliout  the  stars ; 
On  its  own  unity  revolving  still. 
Different  virtue  com])act  dift'erent 

IVIakes  with  the  precious  body  it  enlivens,  1-40 

With  Avhich  it  knits,  as  life  in  you  is  knit. 
From  its  original  nature  full  of  joy. 
The  virtue  mingled  through  the  body  shines. 
As  joy  through  pupil  of  the  living  eye. 
From  lience  proceeds,  that  which  from  light  to  light 
Seems  different,  and  not  from  dense  or  rare.  I-IG 

This  is  the  formal  cause,  that  generates 
Proportion'd  to  its  power,  the  dusk  or  clear." 


CANTO  III. 

That  sun,  which  erst  with  love  my  bosom  warm'd 

Had  of  fair  truth  unveil'd  the  sweet  asjject. 

By  ])roof  of  right,  and  of  the  false  reproof; 

And  I,  to  own  myself  convinc'd  and  free 

Of  doubt,  as  much  as  needed,  rais'd  my  head.  5 

Erect  for  speech.     But  soon  a  sight  a]'»pear'd, 

Which,  so  intent  to  mark  it,  held  me  fix'd. 

That  of  confession  I  no  longer  thought. 

As  through  translucent  and  smooth  glass,  or  wave 
Clear  and  unmov'd,  and  flowing  not  so  deep  10 

As  that  its  bed  is  dark,  the  shape  returns 
So  faint  of  our  impictur'd  lineaments, 


250  PAUADISK. 

That  oil  wliito  forehead  set  a  pearl  as  strong 
Comes  to  tlie  eye  :  such  saw  I  many  a  face, 
All    stretch'cl    to    speak,  from  whence    I    straight  con- 
ceiv'd  15 

Delusion  opposite  to  that,  which  rais'd 
Between  the  man  and  fountain,  amorous  flame. 

Sudden,  as  I  ])erceiv'd  them,  deeming  these 
Reflected  semblances,  to  see  of  whom 
They  were,  I  turu'd  mine  eyes,  and  nothing  saw;  20 

Then  turn'd  them  back,  directed  on  the  liglit 
Of  my  sweet  guide,  Avho  smiling  shot  forth  beams 
From  her  celestial  eyes.     "Wonder  not  thou," 
She  cry'd,  "  at  tliis  my  smiling,  when  I  see 
Thy  childish  judgment ;  since  not  yet  on  truth  25 

It  rests  the  foot,  but,  as  it  still  is  wont, 
Makes  thee  fall  back  in  unsound  vacancy. 
True  substances  are  these,  which  thou  behold'st. 
Hither  through  failure  of  their  vow  exil'd. 
But  speak  thou  with  them  ;  listen,  and  believe,  30 

That  the  true  light,  which  fills  them  with  desire. 
Permits  not  from  its  beams  their  feet  to  stray." 

Straight  to  the  shadow  which  for  converse  seem'd 
Most  earnest,  I  addressed  me,  and  began, 
As  one  by  over-eagerness  perplex'd  :  35 

"  O  spirit,  born  for  joy !  who  in  the  rays 
Of  life  eternal,  of  that  sweetness  knoAv'st 
The  flavour,  which,  not  tasted,  passes  far 
All  apprehension,  me  it  well  would  please. 
If  thou  wouldst  tell  me  of  thy  name,  and  this  40 

Your  station  here."     Whence  she,  with  kindness  j^rompt, 
And  eyes  glist'ring  with  smiles  :  "  Our  charity, 
To  any  Avish  by  justice  introduc'd. 
Bars  not  the  door,  no  more  than  she  above. 
Who  Avould  have  all  her  court  be  like  herself.  45 

I  was  a  virgin  sister  in  the  earth  ; 
And  if  thy  mind  observe  me  well,  this  form, 
AVith  such  addition  grac'd  of  loveliness. 
Will  not  conceal  me  long,  but  thou  wilt  know 
Piccarda,  in  the  tardiest  sphere  thus  plac'd,  50 

Here  'mid  these  other  blessed  also  blest. 


PARADISE.  251 

Our  hearts,  whose  higli  affections  burn  alone 

With  jileasure,  from  the  Holy  Spirit  conceiv'tl, 

Admitted  to  his  order  dwell  in  joy. 

And  this  condition,  which  appears  so  low,  56 

Is  for  this  cause  assign'd  us,  that  our  vows 

Were  in  some  part  neglected  and  made  void." 

Whence  I  to  her  replied  :  "  Something  divine 
Beams  in  your  countenance,  wond'rous  fair, 
From  former  knowledge  quite  transmuting  you.  60 

Therefore  to  recollect  was  I  so  slow. 
But  what  thou  sayst  hath  to  my  memory 
Given  now  such  aid,  that  to  retrace  your  forms 
Is  easier.     Yet  inform  me,  ye,  who  here 
Are  ha])py,  long  ye  for  a  higher  place  65 

More  to  behold,  and  more  in  love  to  dwell  ?  " 

She  with  those  other  spirits  gently  smil'd, 
Then  answer'd  wdth  such  gladness,  that  she  seem'd 
With  love's  first  flame  to  glow  :  "  Brother!  our  will 
Is  in  composure  settled  by  the  power  70 

Of  charity,  who  makes  us  will  alone 
What  we  possess,  and  nought  beyond  desire ; 
If  we  should  wish  to  be  exalted  more. 
Then  must  our  wishes  jar  with  the  high  will 
Of  him,  who  sets  us  here,  which  in  these  orbs  75 

Thou  wilt  confess  not  possible,  if  here 
To  be  in  charity  miist  needs  befal. 
And  if  her  nature  well  thou  contemplate. 
Rather  it  is  inherent  in  this  state 

Of  blessedness,  to  keep  ourselves  within  80 

The  divine  will,  by  which  our  wills  with  his 
Are  one.     So  that  as  we  from  step  to  step 
Are  plac'd  tin-oughout  this  kingdom,  pleases  all, 
E'en  as  our  King,  who  in  us  plants  his  will ; 
And  in  his  will  is  our  tranquillity ;  86 

It  is  the  mighty  ocean,  whither  tends 
Whatever  it  creates  and  nature  makes." 

Then  saw  I  clearly  hoAv  each  spot  in  heav'n 
Is  Paradise,  though  witli  like  gracious  dew 
The  supreme  virtue  show'r  not  over  all.  90 

But  as  it  chances,  if  one  sort  of  food 


252  rARADlSE. 

Hath  satiated,  and  of  another  still 

Tlie  a])petite  remains,  that  this  is  ask'd, 

And  thanks  for  that  return'd  ;  e'en  so  did  I 

In  word  and  motion,  bent  from  her  to  learn  95 

What  web  it  was,  through  which  she  had  not  drawn 

Tlie  shuttle  to  its  point.     She  thus  began  : 

"  Exalted  worth  and  perfectness  of  life 

The  Lady  liigher  up  inshrine  in  heaven, 

By  whose  pure  laws  ujion  your  nether  earth  100 

The  robe  and  veil  they  wear,  to  that  intent, 

That  e'en  till  death  they  may  keep  watch  or  sleep 

With  their  great  bridegroom,  who  accejjts  each  vow, 

Which  to  his  gracious  pleasure  love  conforms. 

I  from  the  world,  to  follow  her,  when  young  105 

Escap'd  ;  and,  in  her  vesture  mantling  me, 

Made  promise  of  the  way  her  sect  enjoins. 

Thereafter  men,  for  ill  than  good  more  apt, 

Forth  snatch'd  me  irofn  the  pleasant  cloister's  pale. 

God  knoAvs  how  after  that  my  life  Avas  fram'd.  110 

This  other  splendid  shape,  which  thou  beholdst 

At  my  right  side,  burning  with  all  the  light 

Of  this  our  orb,  what  of  myself  I  tell 

May  to  herself  apply.     From  her,  like  me 

A  sister,  with  like  violence  were  torn  115 

The  saintly  folds,  that  shaded  her  fair  brows. 

E'en  when  she  to  the  world  again  was  brought 

In  spite  of  lier  own  will  and  better  wont. 

Yet  not  for  that  the  bosom's  inward  veil 

Did  she  renounce.     This  is  the  luminary  120 

Of  mighty  Constance,  who  from  that  loud  blast, 

Which  blew  the  second  over  Suabia's  realm. 

That  power  produc'd,  which  was  tlie  third  and  last." 

She  ceas'd  from  further  talk,  and  tlien  began 
"  Ave  Maria"  singing,  and  with  that  song  125 

Vanish'd,  as  heavy  substance  through  deep  wave. 

Mine  eye,  that  far  as  it  was  capable. 
Pursued  her,  when  in  dimness  she  was  lost, 
Turn'd  to  the  mark  where  greater  want  impell'd, 
And  bent  on  Beatrice  all  its  gaze.  130 

But  she  as  light'ning  beam'd  upon  my  looks  : 


TATIADTSK.  253 

So  th.it  tlie  sight  sustnin'd  it  not  at  first. 
Whence  I  to  question  lier  became  less  prompt. 

CANTO  IV. 

Between  two  kinds  of  food,  botli  equally 

Remote  and  tempting,  first  a  man  might  die 

Of  hunger,  ere  lie  one  could  freely  choose. 

E'en  so  would  stand  a  lamb  between  the  maw 

Of  two  fierce  wolves,  in  dread  of  both  alike :  5 

E'en  so  between  two  deer  a  dog  would  stand, 

Wlierefore,  if  I  was  silent,  fault  nor  i:)raise 

I  to  myself  impute,  by  equal  doubts 

Held  in  suspense,  since  of  necessity 

It  happen'd.     Silent  was  I,  yet  desire  10 

Was  painted  in  my  looks;  and  thus  I  spake 

My  wish  more  earnestly  than  language  could. 

\s  Daniel,  when  the  haughty  king  he  freed 
From  ire,  that  spurr'd  him  on  to  deeds  unjust 
And  violent ;  so  look'd  Beatrice  then.  15 

"  Well  I  discern,"  she  thus  her  words  address'd, 
"  How  contrary  desires  each  way  constrain  thee, 
So  that  thy  anxious  thought  is  in  itself 
Bound  up  and  stifled,  nor  breathes  freely  forth. 
Thou  arguest ;  if  the  good  intent  remain  ;  20 

What  reason  that  another's  violence 
Should  stint  the  measure  of  my  fair  desert  ? 

"  Cause  too  thou  findst  for  doubt,  in  that  it  seems, 
That  spirits  to  the  stars,  as  Plato  deem'd. 
Return.     These  are  the  questions  which  thy  will  25 

Urge  equally  ;  and  therefore  I  the  first 
Of  that  will  treat  which  hath  the  more  of  gall. 
Of  seraphim  he  who  is  most  ensky'd, 
Moses  and  Samuel,  and  either  John, 

Choose  which  thou  wilt,  nor  even  Mary's  self,  30 

Have  not  in  any  other  heav'n  their  seats, 
Than  have  those  spirits  which  so  late  thou  saw'st ; 
Nor  more  or  fewer  years  exist ;  but  all 
Make  the  first  circle  beauteous,  diversly 


254  1'ai:ai)Isk. 

Partaking  of  swoct  life,  as  move  or  less  35 

Afflalion  of  eternal  bliss  pervades  them. 

Here  were  lliey  shown  thee,  not  that  fate  assigns 

This  for  their  spliere,  but  for  a  sign  to  thee 

Of  that  celestial  furthest  from  the  height. 

Thus  needs,  that  ye  may  apprehend,  we  speak:  40 

Since  from  tilings  sensil»le  alone  ye  learn 

'i'liat,  which  digested  7-ightly  after  turns 

To  intellectual.     For  no  othei'  cause 

The  scripture,  condesceiuling  graciously 

To  your  perception,  hands  and  feet  to  God  45 

Attributes,  nor  so  means  :  and  holy  church 

Doth  represent  with  human  countenance 

Gabriel,  and  Michael,  and  him  Avho  made 

Tobias  whole.     Unlike  what  here  thou  seest, 

The  judgment  of  Tima3us,  who  afKrms  50 

Each  soul  restor'd  to  its  particular  star, 

Believing  it  to  have  been  taken  thence, 

When  nature  gave  it  to  inform  her  mold : 

Since  to  appearance  his  intention  is 

E'en  what  his  words  declare  :  or  else  to  shun  55 

Derision,  haply  thus  he  hath  disguis'd 

His  true  ojnnion.     If  his  meaning  be. 

That  to  the  influencing  of  these  orbs  revert 

The  honour  and  the  lilame  in  human  acts. 

Perchance  he  doth  not  wholly  miss  the  truth.  60 

This  ])rinciple,  not  understood  aright, 

Erewhile  perverted  well  nigh  all  the  world ; 

So  that  it  fell  to  fabled  names  of  Jove, 

And  Mercury,  and  Mars.     That  other  doubt, 

Which  moves  thee,  is  less  harmful ;  for  it  brings  65 

Ko  ]ieril  of  removing  thee  from  me. 

"That,  to  the  eye  of  man,  our  justice  seems 
Unjust,  is  argument  for  faith,  and  not 
For  heretic  declension.     To  the  end 

This  truth  may  stand  more  clearly  in  your  view,  70 

1  will  content  thee  even  to  thy  wish, 

"  If  violence  be,  Avhen  that  wdiich  suffers,  nought 
Consents  to  that  which  forceth,  not  for  this 
These  spirits  stood  exculpate.     For  the  will, 


PAIIADISE.  25f) 

Tliat  wills  not,  still  survives  iinqueiicliM,  and  doth         75 

As  natui-e  doth  in  tiro,  tho'  vioh'iiec 

Wrest  it  a  thousand  times  ;  for,  if  it  yield 

Or  more  or  less,  so  far  it  follows  force. 

And  thus  did  these,  whom  tliey  had  power  to  seek 

The  hallow'd  place  again.     In  them,  liad  will  80 

Been  perfect,  such  as  once  upon  the  bars 

Held  Laurence  firm,  or  wrought  in  Screvola 

To  his  own  hand  remorseless,  to  the  path, 

AVhence  they  Avere  drawn,  their  ste])s  had  hasten'd  back, 

When  liberty  return'd  :  but  in  too  few  85 

Resolve  so  stedfast  dwells.     And  by  these  words 

If  duly  weigh'd,  that  argument  is  void. 

Which  oft  might  have  perplex'd  thee  still.     But  now 

Another  question  thwarts  thee,  wliich  to  solve 

Might  try  thy  patience  without  better  aid.  90 

I  have,  no  doubt,  instill'd  into  thy  mind. 

That  blessed  spirit  may  not  lie  ;  since  near 

The  source  of  primal  truth  it  dwells  for  aye: 

And  thou  might'st  after  of  Piccarda  learn 

That  Constance  held  affection  to  the  veil ;  95 

So  that  she  seems  to  contradict  me  here. 

Not  seldom,  brother,  it  hath  chanc'd  for  men 

To  do  what  they  had  gladly  left  undone, 

Yet  to  shun  peril  they  have  done  amiss  : 

E'en  as  Alcrajcon,  at  his  father's  suit  100 

Slew  his  own  mother,  so  made  pitiless 

Not  to  lose  pity.     On  this  point  bethink  thee, 

That  force  and  will  are  blended  in  such  wise 

As  not  to  make  the'  offence  excusable. 

Al)solutc  will  agrees  not  to  the  Avrong,  105 

But  inasmuch  as  there  is  fear  of  woe 

From  non-compliance,  it  agrees.     Of  will 

Thus  absolute  Piccarda  spake,  and  I 

Ot'  th'  other;  so  that  both  have  truly  said." 

Such  was  the  flow  of  that  pure  rill,  that  Avell'd         110 
From  forth  the  fountain  of  all  truth  ;  and  such 
The  rest,  that  to  my  wond'ring  thouglits  I  found. 

"O  thou  of  primal  love  the  ]irinie  delight! 
Goddess  !  "  I  straight  reply'd,  "  whose  lively  words 


2r>G  PAIJAIMSK. 

Still  slicd  now  lieat  find  vigour  through  my  soul !  115 

Affection  fails  me  to  requite  thy  grace 

With  equal  -sum  of  gratitude  :  be  his 

To  recompense,  who  sees  and  can  reward  thee. 

Well  I  discern,  that  by  that  truth  alone 

Enlighten'd,  beyond  which  no  truth  may  roam,  120 

Our  mind  can  satisfy  her  thirst  to  know  : 

Therein  slic  rcsteth,  e'en  as  in  his  lair 

The  wild  beast,  soon  as  she  hath  reach'd  that  bound, 

And  she  hath  jiower  to  reach  it ;  else  desire 

Were  gi\en  to  no  end.     And  thence  doth  doubt  125 

S]n-ing,  like  a  shoot,  around  the  stock  of  truth  ; 

And  it  is  nature  which  from  height  to  height 

On  to  the  summit  prompts  us.     This  invites, 

This  doth  assure  me,  lady,  rev'rently 

To  ask  thee  of  other  truth,  that  yet  130 

Is  dark  to  me.     I  fain  would  know,  if  man 

By  other  works  well  done  may  so  siipply 

The  failure  of  his  vows,  that  in  your  scale 

They  lack  not  weight."     I  spake  ;  and  on  me  straight 

Beatrice  look'd  with  eyes,  that  shot  forth  sparks  135 

Of  love  celestial  in  such  copious  stream, 

That,  virtue  sinking  in  me  overpowered, 

I  turn'd,  and  downward  bent  conf us'd  my  sight. 


CANTO  V. 

"  If  beyond,  earthly  wont,  the  flame  of  love 
Illume  me,  sw  that  I  o'ercome  thy  power 
Of  vision,  marvel  not :  but  learn  the  cause 
In  that  perfection  of  the  sight,  which  soon 
As  apprehending,  hastenetli  on  to  reach  6 

The  good  it  ajiprehends.     I  well  discern, 
Plow  in  thine  intellect  already  shines 
The  light  eternal,  which  to  view  alone 
Ne'er  fails  to  kindle  love  ;  and  if  aught  else 
ISTour  love  seduces,  't  is  but  that  it  shows  10 

Some  ill-mark'd  vestige  of  that  ]u-inial  beam. 
"  This  would'st  thou  know,  if  failure  of  the  vow 


I'AHAOISK.  257 

By  otlier  .?c'r\i(X'  may  be  so  i>u])]»lied, 
As  from  SL'Il"-(|uestioii  to  assure  the  soul." 

Thus  she  lier  words,  not  lieedless  of  my  wish,  15 

Began  ;  and  thus,  as  one  wlio  breaks  not  off 
Discourse,  continued  in  lier  saintly  strain. 
/'Supreme  of  gilts,  which  (ilod  creating  gave 
\)f  his  free  bounty,  sign  most  evident 
Of  goodness,  and  in  iiis  account  most  ])riz'd,  20 

Was  liberty  of  will,  the  boon  Avherewith 
All  intellectual  creatures,  and  them  sole 
He  hath  endow'd.     Hence  now  thou  mayst  infer 
Of  what  high  worth  the  vow,  which  so  is  fram'd 
That  when  man  offers,  God  well-pleas'd  accepts;  25 

For  in  the  comi)act  between  God  and  him, 
This  treasure,  such  as  I  describe  it  to  thee, 
lie  makes  the  victim,  and  of  his  own  act. 
What  compensation  therefore  may  he  find?  ^ 

If  that,  whereof  thou  hast  oblation  made,  30 

By  using  well  thou  think'st  to  consecrate, 
Thou  would'st  of  theft  do  charitable  deed. 
Thus  I  resolve  thee  of  the  greater  ])oint. 

"  But  forasmuch  as  holy  church,  herein 
Dispensing,  seems  to  contradict  the  truth  35 

I  have  discover'd  to  thee,  yet  behoves 
Thou  rest  a  little  longer  at  the  board. 
Ere  the  crude  aliment,  which  thou  hast  ta'en, 
Digested  fitly  to  nutrition  turn. 

0]jen  tliy  mind  to  what  I  now  unfold,  40 

And  give  it  inward  keeping.     Knowledge  comes 
Of  learning  well  retain'd,  unfruitful  else. 

"  This  sacrifice  in  essence  of  two  things 
Consisteth  ;  one  is  tliat,  whereof  't  is  made. 
The  covenant  the  other.     For  the  last,  45 

It  ne'er  is  cancell'd  if  not  kejit :  and  hence 
I  sjiakc  erewhile  so  strictly  of  its  force. 
For  this  it  was  enjoin'd  the  Israelites, 
Though    leave    were    giv'n    them,   as   thou  know'st,  to 

change 
The  offering,  still  to  offer.     Th'  other  part,  50 

1'he  matter  and  the  substance  of  the  vow, 

17 


258  I'AUADISE. 

May  well  be  suoli,  to  that  without  offence 

It  may  for  otiicr  sulistanoc  be  exchaiig'd. 

But  al  his  own  discretion  none  may  .shift 

The  burden  on  his  sholders,  unreleas'd  65 

By  either  key,  tlie  yellow  and  the  Avhite. 

Nor  tleem  of  any  change,  as  less  than  vain, 

If  the  last  bond  be  not  within  the  neAV 

Included,  as  the  quatre  in  tlie  six. 

No  satisfaction  therefore  can  be  paid  60 

For  what  so  jtrecious  in  the  balance  weighs, 

That  all  in  counterpoise  must  kick  the  beam. 

Take  then  no  vow  at  random :  ta'en,  with  faith 

Preserve  it ;  yet  not  bent,  as  Jephthah  once, 

Blindly  to  execute  a  rash  resolve,  65 

Whom  better  it  had  suited  to  exclaim, 

'  I  have  done  ill,'  than  to  redeem  his  pledge 

By  doing  worse  ■   or,  not  unlike  to  him 

In  folly,  that  great  leader  of  the  Greeks  : 

Whence,  on  the  alter,  Iphigenia  mourn'd  70 

Her  virgin  beauty,  and  hath  since  made  mourn 

Both  wise  and  simple,  even  all,  who  hear 

Of  so  fell  sacrifice.     Be  ye  more  staid, 

O  Christians,  not,  like  feather,  by  each  wind 

Removeable  :  nor  think  to  cleanse  ourselves  75 

In  every  water.     Either  testament. 

The  old  and  new,  is  yours:  and  for  your  guide 

The  shepherd  of  the  church.     Let  this  suffice 

To  save  you.     When  by  evil  lust  entic'd, 

Remember  ye  be  men,  not  senseless  beasts ;  80 

Nor  let  the  Jew,  who  dwelleth  in  your  streets, 

Hold  you  in  mock'ry.     Be  not,  as  the  lamb. 

That,  fickle  wanton,  leaves  its  mother's  milk,  „ 

To  dally  with  itself  in  idle  i>lay."  ^ 

Such  were  the  words  that  Beatrice  spake  :  85 

These  ended,  to  that  region,  where  the  world 
Is  liveliest,  full  of  fond  desire  she  turn'd. 

Though  mainly  prompt  new  question  to  propose, 
Her  silence  and  chang'd  look  did  keep  me  dumb. 
And  as  the  arrow,  ere  the  cord  is  still,  90 

Leaj)eth  unto  its  mavk ;  so  on  we  sped 


PAUADISE.  259 

Into  the  second  realm.     There  I  helickl 

The  dame,  so  joyous,  enter,  tliat  tlie  orb 

Grew  brighter  at  lier  smiles  ;  and,  if  the  star 

Were  mov'd  to  gladness,  what  then  was  my  cheer,        95 

Whom  nature  hath  made  apt  for  every  change  ! 

As  in  a  quiet  and  clear  lake  the  tish. 
If  aught  approach  them  from  without,  do  draw 
Towards  it,  deeming  it  their  food;  so  drew 
Full  more  than  thousand  s])lendours  towards  us,  lUO 

And  in  each  one  was  heard  :  "  Lo  !  one  arriv'd 
To  multi})ly  our  loves  !  "  and  as  each  came 
The  shadow,  streaming  forth  effulgence  new, 
Witness'd  augmented  joy.     Here,  reader  !  think, 
If  thou  didst  miss  the  sequel  of  my  tale,  105 

To  know  the  rest  how  sorely  thou  wouldst  crave  ; 
And  thou  shalt  see  what  vehement  desire 
Possess'd  me,  as  soon  as  tliese  had  met  my  view, 
To  know  their  state.     "  O  born  in  hapi)y  hour ! 
Thou  to  whom  grace  vouchsafes,  or  ere  thy  close         110 
Of  fleshly  warfare,  to  behold  the  thrones 
Of  that  eternal  triumph,  know  to  us 
The  light  communicated,  which  through  heaven 
Expatiates  without  bound.     Therefore,  if  aught 
Thou  of  our  beams  wouldst  borrow  for  thine  aid,         115 
Spare  not ;  and  of  our  radiance  take  thy  fill." 

Thus  of  those  piteous  spirits  one  bespake  me ; 
And  Beatrice  next :  "  Say  on  ;  and  trust 
As  unto  gods !  " — "  How  in  the  light  su})reme 
Thou  harbour'st,  and  from  thence  the  virtue  bring'st. 
That,  sparkling  in  thine  eyes,  denotes  thy  joy,  121 

I  mark;  but,  who  thou  art,  am  still  to  seek  ; 
Or  wherefore,  worthy  spirit !  for  thy  lot 
This  sphere  assign'd,  tliat  oft  from  mortal  ken 
Is  veil'd  by  others'  beams."  I  said,  and  turn'd  125 

Toward  the  lustre,  that  with  greeting  kind 
Erewhile  had  hail'd  me.     Forthwith  brighter  far 
Than  erst,  it  wax'd  :  and,  as  himself  the  sun 
Hides  through  excess  of  light,  when  his  warm  gaze 
Hath  on  the  mantle  of  thick  vapours  prey'd  ;  130 

Within  its  proper  ray  the  sauitly  shape 


200  PAKADISE. 

Was,  lliroug-li  iiiorcase  of  uladnt'ss,  thus  conceal'd; 
And,  shrouded  so  in  splendour  answcr'd  nie, 
E'en  as  tlic  tcnour  of  my  s(jiig  declares. 


CANTO  VI. 

"  Aftek  tliat  Constantino  the  eagle  turn'd 

Against  the  motions  of  the  heav'n,  that  roll'd. 

Consenting  with  its  course,  when  he  of  yore, 

Lavinia's  spouse,  M^as  leader  of  the  flight, 

A  hundred  years  twice  told  and  more,  his  seat  5 

At  Euroj^e's  extreme  point,  the  bii"d  of  Jove 

Held,  near  the  mountains,  whence  he  issued  first. 

There  under  shadow  of  his  sacred  plumes 

Swaying  the  world,  till  through  successive  hands  ^ 

To  mine  he  came  devolv'd.     Caesar  I  was,  10 

And  am  Justinian ;  destin'd  by  the  will 

Of  that  prime  love,  whose  influence  I  feel. 

From  vain  excess  to  clear  th'  incumber'd  laws. 

Or  ere  that  work  engag'd  me,  I  did  hold 

Christ's  nature  merely  human,  with  such  faith  15      j 

Contented.     But  the  blessed  Agapete, 

Who  was  chief  shepherd,  he  with  warning  voice 

To  the  true  faith  recall'd  me.     I  believ'd 

His  words  :  and  w'hat  he  taught,  now  plainly  see, 

As  thou  in  every  contradiction  seest  20 

The  true  and  false  opipos'd.     Soon  as  my  feet 

Were  to  the  church  reclaim'd,  to  my  great  task, 

By  inspiration  of  God's  grace  impell'd, 

I  gave  me  wholly,  and  consign'd  mine  arms 

To  Belisarius,  with  whom  heaven's  right  hand  25 

Was  link'd  in  such  conjointment,  't  was  a  sign 

That  I  should  rest.     To  thy  first  question  thus 

I  sha])e  mine  answer,  which  were  ended  here, 

But  that  its  tendency  doth  promjtt  perforce 

To  some  addition  ;  that  thou  well  mayst  mark  30 

What  reason  on  each  side  they  have  to  plead, 

By  whom  that  holiest  banner  is  withstood. 

Both  who  pretend  its  power  and  who  oppose. 


PARADTSK. 


201 


"  Boginning  from  tlmt  hour,  wlicn  Pallas  died 
To  give  it  rule,  behold  the  valorous  deeds  35 

Have  made  it  worthy  reverence.     Not  unknowu 
To  thee,  how  for  three  hundred  years  and  more 
It  dwelt  in  Alba,  up  to  those  fell  lists 
Where  for  its  sake  were  met  the  rival  three ; 
Nor  aught  unknown  to  thee,  which  it  achiev'd  40 

Down  to  the  Sabines'  wrong  to  Lucrece'  woe, 
Witli  its  sev'n  kings  conqn'ring  the  nation  round  ; 
Nor  all  it  wrought,  by  Roman  worthies  borne 
'Gainst  Brennus  and  th'  Epirot  prince,  and  hosts 
Of  single  chiefs,  or  states  in  league  combin'd  45 

Of  social  warfare  ;  hence  Torquatus  stern, 
And  Quintius  nam'd  of  his  neglected  locks, 
The  Decii,  and  the  Fabii  hence  acquir'd 
Their  fame,  which  I  with  duteous  zeal  embalm. 
By  it  the  pride  of  Arab  hordes  Avas  quell'd,  50 

When  they  led  on  by  Hannibal  o'erpass'd 
The  Al]Mne  rocks,  wlience  glide  thy  currents,  Po  ! 
Beneath  its  guidance,  in  their  prime  of  days 
Sci])io  and  Pompey  triumph'd  ;  and  that  hill, 
Under  Avhose  summit  thou  didst  see  the  light,  55 

Rued  its  stern  bearing.     After,  near  the  hour. 
When  heav'n  was  minded  that  o'er  all  the  world 
His  own  deep  calm  should  brood,  to  Cffisar's  hand 
Did  Rome  consign  it ;  and  what  then  it  -wrought 
From  Var  unto  the  Rhine,  saw  Isere's  flood,  CO 

Saw  Loire  and  Seine,  and  every  vale,  that  fills 
The  torrent  Rhone,     What  after  that  it  wrouglit, 
When  froni  Ravenna  it  came  forth,  and  Icap'd 
The  Rubicon,  was  of  so  bold  a  flight, 
That  tongue  nor  pen  may  follow  it.     Tow'rds  Spain    65 
It  wheel'd  its  bands,  then  tow'rd  Dyrrachium  smote, 
And  on  Pharsalia  with  so  fierce  a  ]ilunge, 
E'en  the  warm  Nile  was  conscious  to  the  pang; 
Its  native  shores  Antandros,  and  the  streams 
Of  Simois  revisited,  and  there  70 

Wliere  Hector  lies  ;  then  ill  for  Ptolemy 
His  pennons  sliook  again  ;  lightning  thence  fell 
On  Juba  ;  and  the  next  upon  your  west. 


2()'J  PAIIADISE. 

At  souihI  of  tlic  l^oiniK'inn  truni]),  rftuniM. 

''  Wli.'it  full()\\  iiio-  ;uh1  in  its  next  l)o:irer's  gripe         75 
It  wrought,  is  now  by  Cassias  and  Brutus 
BarkM  off  in  lioll,  and  by  Perugia's  sons 
And  Modena's  was  inourn'd.     Ileiice  weei^etli  still 
Sad  Cleo])atra,  who,  ]nirsued  by  it. 

Took  from  tlie  adder  black  and  sudden  death.  80 

With  him  it  ran  e'en  to  the  Red  Sea  coast ; 
With  him  compos'd  the  world  to  such  a  peace, 
That  of  his  temi)le  Janus  barr'd  the  door, 

"  But  all  the  mighty  standard  yet  had  wrought, 
And  was  a]t]winted  to  perforjii  thereafter,  85 

Throughout  the  mortal  kingdom  whicli  it  sway'd, 
Falls  in  a])])earance  dwindled  and  obscur'd, 
If  one  with  steady  eye  and  perfect  tliouglit 
On  th.e  third  Cassar  look ;  for  to  his  hands, 
The  living  Justice,  in  whose  breath  I  move,  90 

Committed  glory,  e'en  into  his  hands. 
To  execute  the  vengeance  of  its  wrath. 

"Hear  now  and  wonder  at  what  next  I  tell. 
After  with  Titus  it  was  sent  to  wreak 
Vengeance  for  vengeance  of  the  ancient  sin,  95 

And,  when  the  Lond^ard  tooth,  with  fangs  impure, 
Did  gore  the  bosom  of  the  holy  church. 
Under  its  wungs  victorious,  Charlemagne 
Sped  to  her  rescue.     Judge  then  for  thyself 
Of  those,  whom  I  erewhile  accus'd  to  thee,  100 

What  they  are,  and  how  grievous  their  offending. 
Who  are  the  cause  of  all  your  ills.     The  one 
Against  the  universal  ensign  rears 
The  yellow  lilies,  and  with  partial  aim 
That  to  himself  the  other  arrogates  :  105 

So  that  't  is  hard  to  see  which  more  offends. 
Be  yours,  ye  Ghibellines,  to  veil  your  arts 
Beneath  another  standard  :  ill  is  this 
Follow'd  of  liim,  who  severs  it  and  justice  : 
And  let  not  with  his  Guelphs  the  new-crown'd  Charles  110 
Assail  it,  but  those  talons  hold  in  dread, 
Which  from  a  lion  of  more  lofty  port 
Have  rent  the  casing.     Many  a  time  ere  now 


PARAPTSK.  263 

TI10  sons  hnve  for  the  sire's  transi^ression  wfiilM  ; 

Nor  let  him  trust  the  fond  belief,  that  lienv'n  115 

Will  truck  its  armour  for  his  liliefl  shield. 

"  This  little  star  is  furnisli'd  with  good  spirits, 
Whose  mortal  lives  were  busied  to  that  end, 
That  honour  and  renown  might  wait  on  them  : 
And,  when  desires  thus  err  in  their  intention,  120 

True  love  must  needs  ascend  with  slacker  beam. 
But  it  is  part  of  our  delight,  to  measure 
Our  wages  with  the  merit ;  and  admire 
The  close  proportion.     Hence  doth  heav'nly  justice 
Temper  so  evenly  affection  in  us,  125 

It  ne'er  can  warp  to  any  wrongfulness. 
Of  diverse  voices  is  sweet  music  made : 
So  in  our  life  the  different  degrees 
Render  sweet  harmony  among  these  Avheels. 

"Within  the  pearl,  that  now  encloseth  lis,  130 

Shines  Romeo's  light,  whose  goodly  deed  and  fair 
Met  ill  acceptance.     But  the  Proven9als, 
That  were  liis  foes,  have  little  cause  for  mirth. 
Ill  shapes  that  man  his  course,  who  makes  his  wrong 
Of  other's  worth.     Four  daughters  were  there  born     135 
To  Raymond  Berenger,  and  every  one 
Became  a  queen  ;  and  this  for  him  did  Romeo, 
Though  of  mean  state  and  from  a  foreign  land. 
Yet  envious  tongues  incited  him  to  ask 
A  reckoning  of  that  just  one,  who  return'd  140 

Twelve  fold  to  him  for  ten.     Aged  and  poor 
He  parted  thence  :  and  if  the  world  did  know 
The  heart  lie  had,  begging  his  life  by  morsels, 
'T  would  deem  the  praise,  it  yields  him,  scantly  dealt." 


CANTO  VII. 

"  HosANNA  Sanctus  Deus  Sabaoth 

Superillustrans  claritate  tua 

Felices  ignes  horum  malahoth !  " 

Thus  chaunting  saw  I  turn  that  substance  bright 

With  fourfold  lustre  to  its  orb  again, 


204  PAKADrSE. 

Revolving;  and  the  rest  unto  their  dance 
Willi  it  niov'd  also  ;  and  like  swiftest  sparks, 
In  sudden  distance  from  my  siy;ht  were  veil'd. 

Me  doubt  possess'd,  and  "Speak,"  it  wliis))er'd  mo, 
"  S]teak,  sj^eak  unto  thy  lady,  that  slie  quench  10 

Tliy  thirst  with  dro])S  of  sweetness,"     Yet  blank  awe, 
Which  lords  it  o'er  me,  even  at  the  sound 
Of  Beatrice's  name,  did  bow  me  down 
As  one  in  slumber  held.     Not  long  that  mood 
Beatrice  suffer'd  :  she,  with  such  a  smile,  15 

As  might  have  made  one  blest  amid  the  flames, 
Beaming  u])on  me,  thus  her  words  began : 
"  Thou  in  thy  thought  art  pond'ring  (as  I  deem. 
And  what  I  deem  is  truth)  how  just  revenge 
Could  be  with  justice  punish'd  :  from  which  doubt         20 
I  soon  will  free  thee ;  so  thou  mark  my  %vords  ; 
For  they  of  weighty  matter  shall  possess  thee. 

"  That  man,  who  was  unborn,  himself  condemn'd. 
And,  in  himself,  all,  who  since  him  have  liv'd. 
His  offspring  :  whence,  below,  the  human  kind  25 

Lay  sick  in  grievous  error  many  an  age; 
Until  it  pleas'd  the  Word  of  God  to  come 
Amongst  them  down,  to  his  own  person  joining 
The  nature,  from  its  Maker  far  estrang'd, 
By  the  mere  act  of  his  eternal  love.  30 

Contemplate  here  the  wonder  I  imfold. 
The  nature  with  its  Maker  thus  conjoin'd. 
Created  first  was  blameless,  pure  and  good  ; 
But  through  itself  alone  was  di'iven  forth 
From  Paradise,  because  it  had  eschew'd  85 

The  way  of  truth  and  life,  to  evil  turn'd. 
Ne'er  then  was  penalty  so  just  as  that 
Inflicted  by  the  cross,  if  thou  regard 
The  nature  in  assumption  doom'd :  ne'er  wrong 
So  great,  in  reference  to  him,  who  took  40 

Such  nature  on  him,  and  endur'd  the  doom, 
God  therefore  and  the  Jews  one  sentence  pleased  : 
So  different  effects  flow'd  from  one  act, 
And  heav'n  was  open'd,  though  the  earth  did  quake. 
Co\int  it  not  hard  henceforth,  when  thou  dost  hear         45 


j  PARAPISK.  265 

I 

j       That  a  just  vengeance  was  by  righteous  court 

I       Justly  reveng'd.     But  yet  I  see  thy  mind 

By  tliouglit  on  thouglit  arising  sore  perplex'd, 

J       And  Avitli  liow  velienient  desire  it  asks 

Sohition  of  the  maze.     What  I  have  hoard,  50 

Is  ])hiin,  tliou  sayst :  hut  wliorefore  God  this  Avay 
Foi"  our  redemption  chose,  ehides  my  search, 

"Brotlier  !  no  eye  of  man  not  perfected, 
Nor  fully  ri])en'd  in  the  flame  of  love. 
May  fathom  tliis  decree.     It  is  a  mark,  65 

In  sooth,  much  nim'd  at,  and  but  little  kenn'd  : 
And  I  will  therefore  show  thee  why  such  way 
Was  worthiest.     The  celestial  love,  tliat  spurns 
All  envying  in  its  bounty,  in  itself 

With  such  effulgence  blazeth,  as  sends  forth  60 

All  beauteous  things  eternal.     What  distils 
Immediate  thence,  no  end  of  being  knows, 
Bearing  its  seal  immutably  impress'd. 
Whatever  thence  immediate  falls,  is  free, 
Free  Avholly,  uncontrollable  by  ])ower  65 

Of  each  thing  new  :  by  such  conformity 
More  grateful  to  its  autlior,  whose  bright  beams, 
Tlioiigh  all  partake  their  shining,  yet  in  those 
Are  liveliest,  which  resemble  him  the  most. 
These  tokens  of  pre-eminence  on  man  70 

Largely  bestow'd,  if  any  of  them  fail. 
Tie  needs  must  forfeit  his  nobility. 
No  longer  stainless.     Sin  alone  is  that. 
Which  doth  disfranchise  him,  and  make  unlike 
To  the  chief  good  ;  for  that  its  light  in  him  75 

Is  darken'd.     And  to  dignity  thus  lost 
Is  no  return  ;  unless,  where  guilt  makes  void, 
He  for  ill  pleasure  pay  with  equal  pain. 
Your  nature,  which  entirely  in  its  seed 
Trangress'd,  from  these  distinctions  fell,  no  less  80 

Than  from  its  state  in  Paradise ;  nor  means 
Found  of  recovery  (search  all  methods  out 
As  strickly  as  thou  may)  save  one  of  these. 
The  only  fords  were  left  through  which  to  wade, 
Eitlier  that  (l<>d  had  of  his  courtesy  85 


260  PARADrSR. 

RelcnsM  liini  morcly,  or  else  man  liimself 
For  his  own  folly  by  himself  aton'd. 

"  Fix  now  thine  eye,  intently  :is  thou  canst, 
On  th'  evei-lasting  counsel,  and  explore, 
Instructed  by  my  words,  the  dread  abyss.  90 

"  Man  in  himself  had  ever  lack'd  the  nieana 
Of  satisfaction,  for  he  could  not  stoop 
01)eying:,  in  humility  so  low, 
As  high  he,  disobeying,  thought  to  soar: 
And  for  this  reason  he  had  vainly  tried  95 

Out  of  his  own  sufficiency  to  pay 
The  rigid  satisfaction.     Then  behov'd 
That  God  should  by  his  own  ways  lead  him  back 
Unto  the  life,  from  whence  he  fell,  restor'd : 
By  both  his  ways,  I  mean,  or  one  alone.  100 

But  since  the  deed  is  ever  priz'd  the  more, 
The  more  the  doer's  good  intent  appears. 
Goodness  celestial,  whose  broad  signature 
Is  on  the  universe,  of  all  its  ways 

To  raise  ye  up,  w^as  fain  to  leave  out  none.  105 

Nor  aught  so  vast  or  so  magnificent. 
Either  for  him  who  gave  or  who  receiv'd, 
Between  the  last  niglit  and  the  ]>rimal  day. 
Was  or  can  be.     For  God  more  bounty  show'd, 
Giving  himself  to  make  man  ca|>able  110 

Of  his  return  to  life,  than  had  the  terms 
Been  mere  and  unconditional  release. 
And  for  his  justice,  every  method  else 
Were  all  too  scant,  had  not  the  Son  of  God 
Humbled  himself  to  put  on  mortal  flesh.  115 

"  Now,  to  fulfil  each  wish  of  thine,  remains 
I  somewhat  further  to  thy  view  unfold. 
That  thou  mayst  see  as  clearly  as  myself. 

"  I  see,  thou  saj'^st,  the  air,  the  fire  I  see, 
The  earth  and  water,  and  all  things  of  them  120 

Compounded,  to  corrujjtion  turn,  and  soon 
Dissolve.     Yet  these  were  also  things  create, 
Because,  if  what  w^ere  told  me,  had  been  true 
They  from  corruption  had  been  therefore  free. 

"  The  angels,  O  my  brother  !  and  this  clime  125 


PARADISE.  '     267 

Wlieroin  thou  art,  impassible  and  jHire, 

I  call  ci-eated,  as  indeed  tbey  are 

In  their  whole  being.     But  the  elements, 

Which  thou  Jiast  nam'd,  and  what  of  them  is  made, 

Are  by  created  virtue'  inform'd  :  create  130 

Their  substance,  and  create  the'  informing  virtue 

In  these  bright  stars,  that  round  them  circling  move 

The  soul  of  every  brute  and  of  each  plant. 

The  ray  and  motion  of  the  sacred  lights. 

With  complex  poteiicy  attract  and  tui-n.  135 

But  this  our  life  tlie'  eternal  good  inspires 

Immediate,  and  enamours  of  itself  ; 

So  that  our  wishes  rest  for  ever  here. 

"  And  hence  thou  mayst  by  inference  conclude 
Our  resurrection  certain,  if  thy  mind  140 

Consider  how  the  human  flesh  was  fram'd, 
When  both  our  parents  at  the  first  were  made." 


CANTO  VIII. 

The  woidd  was  in  its  day  of  peril  dark 

Wont  to  believe  the  dotage  of  fond  love 

From  tlie  fair  Cyprian  deity,  wlio  rolls 

In  her  third  epicycle,  shed  on  men 

By  stream  of  potent  radiance  :  therefore  they  6 

Of  elder  time,  in  their  old  error  blind, 

Not  her  alone  with  sacrifice  ador'd 

And  invocation,  but  like  honours  paid 

To  Cupid  and  Dione,  deem'd  of  them 

Her  mother,  and  her  son,  him  whom  they  feign 'd  10 

To  sit  in  Dido's  bosom  :  and  from  her, 

Whom  I  have  sung  preluding,  borrow'd  they 

The  appellation  of  that  star,  which  views 

Now  obvious,  and  now  averse,  the  sun. 

I  was  not  ware  that  I  was  wafted  up  15 

Into  its  orb  ;  but  the  new  loveliness 
"J'hat  grac'd  my  lady,  gave  me  ample  proof 
That  we  had  enter'd  there.     And  as  in  flame 
A  s])arkle  is  distinct,  or  voice  in  voice 


268  rARAPisr*:. 

DisocniM,  wlicn  one  its  even  tenour  keeps,  20 

The  other  comes  and  £!;oes ;  so  in  that  light 
I  otiier  linninai'ies  saw,  tliat  coursM 
In  circling  motion,  rapid  more  or  less, 
As  their  eternal  })hasis  each  impels. 

Never  was  blast  from  vapour  charged  with  cold,        25 
Whether  invisible  to  eye  or  no, 
Descended  with  such  speed,  it  Inid  not  seem'd 
To  linger  in  dull  tardiness,  comj)ar'd 
To  those  celestial  lights,  that  tow'rds  ns  came, 
Leaving  the  circuit  of  their  joyous  ring,  30 

Conducted  by  the  lofty  seraj)liim. 
And  after  them,  who  in  the  van  appear'd, 
Such  an  Hosanna  sounded,  as  hath  left 
Desire,  ne'er  since  extinct  in  me,  to  hear 
Kenew'd  the  strain.     Then  parting  from  the  rest  35 

One  near  us  drew,  and  sole  began  :  "  We  all 
Are  ready  at  thy  pleasure,  well  dispos'd 
To  do  thee  gentle  service.     We  are  they, 
To  whom  thou  in  the  world  erewhile  didst  sing 
'  O  ye  !  whose  intellectual  ministry  40 

Moves  the  third  heaven  ! '  and  in  one  orb  we  roll, 
One  motion,  one  impulse,  with  those  who  rule 
Princedoms  in  heaven  ;  yet  are  of  love  so  full, 
That  to  ])lease  thee  't  will  be  as  sweet  to  rest." 

After  mine  eyes  had  with  meek  reverence  45 

Sought  the  celestial  guide,  and  were  by  her 
Assur'd,  they  turn'd  again  unto  the  light 
Who  had  so  lai'gely  promis'd,  and  ^^'ith  voice 
That  bare  the  lively  pressure  of  my  zeal, 
"  Tell  who  ye  are,"  I  cried.     Fortlnvith  it  grew  50 

In  size  and  splendour,  through  augmented  joy ; 
And  thus  it  answer'd  :  "  A  short  date  below 
The  Avorld  possess'd  me.     Had  the  time  been  more, 
Much  evil,  that  will  come,  had  never  chanc'd. 
My  gladness  hides  thee  from  me,  which  doth  shine        55 
Around,  and  shroud  me,  as  an  animal 
In  its  own  silk  unswath'd.     Thou  lov'dst  me  well, 
And  had'st  good  cause;  for  had  my  sojourning 
Been  longer  on  the  earth,  the  love  I  bare  thee 


I'AliADlSK.  2G9 

Had  put  forth  more  than  hlossoiiis.     'Hu'  left  biiiik,       GO 

That  llhone,  when  he  hatli  niixVl  witli  .Sui'ga,  hives. 

In  me  its  lord  expected,  and  that  horn 

Of  fair  Ausonia,  with  its  borouglis  old, 

Bari,  and  Croton,  and  Gaeta  i^il'd, 

From  where  the  Trento  disembogues  liis  waves,  C5 

With  Verde  mingled,  to  the  salt  sea-liood. 

Already  on  my  temples  beam'd  th(!  crown, 

Wliich  gave  me  sov'reignty  over  the  land 

B}^  Danube  wash'd,  whenas  he  strays  beyond 

The  limits  of  his  German  shores.     The  realm,  70 

"Where,  on  tlie  gulf  by  stormy  Eurus  lash'd. 

Betwixt  Pelorus  and  Pachynian  lieights, 

The  beautiful  Trinacria  lies  in  gloom 

(Not  through  Typhoeus,  but  the  vap'ry  cloud 

Bituminous  upsteam'd),  that  too  did  look  75     | 

To  have  its  sceptre  wielded  by  a  race 

Of   monarchs,   sprung   through    me    from    Charles    and 

Rodolph ;  ^ 

Had  not  ill  lording  which  doth  spirit  u]^  | 

The  people  ever,  in  Palermo  rais'd  I 

The  shout  of  '  death,'  re-echo'd  loud  and  long.  80     | 

Had  but  my  brother's  foresight  kenn'd  as  much,  1 

He  had  been  wai'ier  that  the  greedy  want  I 

Of  Catalonia  miglit  not  work  his  bale.  I 

And  truly  need  there  is,  that  he  forecast,  I 

Or  other  for  him,  lest  more  freight  be  laid  85     \ 

On  his  already  over-laden  bark.  I 

Nature  in  him,  from  bounty  fall'n  to  thrift,  \ 

Woidd  ask  the  guard  of  braver  arms,  than  such  I 

As  only  care  to  have  their  coffers  fill'd." 

"My  liege,  it  doth  enhance  the  joy  thy  words  90      1 

Infuse  into  me,  mighty  as  it  is,  \ 

To  think  my  gladness  manifest  to  thee,  } 

As  to  myself,  who  own  it,  when  thou  lookst 
Into  the  source  and  limit  of  all  gotnl. 

There,  where  thou  markest  that  which  Ihou  dost  speak,  05 
Thence  priz'd  of  me  the  more.     Glad  thou  hast  made  me. 
Now  make  intelligent,  clearing  the  doubt 
Thy  speech  hath  raised  in  me  ;  for  much  I  muse, 


270  PAHA  DISK. 

How  bitter  can  spring  up,  when  sweet  is  sown." 

I  thus  inquiring  ;  lie  forthwith  replied  :  100 

"  If  I  have  i)ower  to  show  one  trutli,  soon  that 
Shall  face  thee,  which  thy  questioning  declares 
Behind  thee  now  conceard.     The  Good,  that  guides 
And  blessed  makes  this  realm,  which  thou  dost  mount. 
Ordains  its  providence  to  be  the  virtue  105 

In  these  great  bodies :  nor  th'  all  perfect  Mind 
Upholds  their  nature  merely,  but  in  them 
Their  energy  to  save  :  for  nought,  that  lies 
"Within  the  range  of  that  unerring  bow, 
But  is  as  level  with  the  destin'd  aim,  110 

As  ever  mark  to  arrow's  point  023])os'd. 
Were  it  not  thus,  these  heavens,  thou  dost  visit, 
Would  their  effect  so  work,  it  would  not  be 
Art,  but  destruction  ;  and  this  may  not  chance. 
If  th'  intellectual  powers,  that  move  these  stars,  115 

Fail  not,  or  who,  first  faulty  made  them  fail. 
Wilt  thou  this  truth  more  clearly  evidenc'd  ?  " 

To  whom  I  thus :  "  It  is  enough  :  no  fear, 
I  see,  lest  nature  in  her^part  should  tire." 

He  straight  rejoin'd:  "Say,  were  it  worse  for  man,  120 
If  he  liv'd  not  in  fellowship  on  earth?" 

"  Yea,"  answer'd  I ;  "  nor  here  a  reason  needs." 

"  And  may  that  be,  if  diffeixMit  estates 
Grow  not  of  different  duties  in  your  life? 
Consult  your  teacher,  and  he  tells  you  '  no.'  "  125 

Thus  did  he  come,  deducing  to  this  point, 
And  then  concluded  :  "  For  this  cause  behoves, 
The  roots,  from  whence  your  operations  come. 
Must  differ.     Therefore  one  is  Solon  born  ; 
Another,  Xerxes;  and  Melchisidec  130 

A  third;  and  he  a  fourth,  whose  airy  voynge 
Cost  him  his  son.     In  her  circuitous  course, 
Nature,  that  is  the  seal  to  mortal  wax. 
Doth  well  her  art,  but  no  distinctions  owns 
'Twixt  one  or  other  household.     Hence  befals  135 

That  Esau  is  so  wide  of  Jacob  :  hence 
Quirinus  of  so  b:ise  a  father  springs, 
He  dates  from  Mars  his  lineatife.     Were  it  not 


PAKADISE.  271 

That  providence  celestial  overrul'd, 

Nature,  in  generation,  must  the  ])ath  140 

Trac'd  by  the  generator,  still  pursue 

Unswervingly.     Thus  place  I  in  thy  sight 

That,  which  was  late  behind  thee.     ]>ut,  in  sign 

Of  more  affection  for  thee,  't  is  my  will 

Thou  wear  this  corollary.     Nature  ever  145 

Finding  discordant  fortune,  like  all  seed 

Out  of  its  proper  climate,  thrives  but  ill.' 

And  were  the  world  below  content  to  mark 

And  Avork  on  the  foundation  nature  lays, 

It  would  not  lack  supply  of  excellence.  150 

But  ye  i)erversely  to  religion  strain 

Him,  who  was  born  to  gird  on  him  the  sword, 

And  of  the  fluent  phrasemen  make  your  king ; 

Therefore  your  steps  have  wander'd  from  the  paths." 


CANTO  IX. 

After  solution  of  my  doubt,  thy  Charles, 

O  fail-  Clemenza,  of  the  treachery  spake 

That  must  befal  his  seed  :  but,  "  Tell  it  not," 

Said  he,  "  and  let  the  destin'd  years  come  round." 

Nor  may  I  tell  thee  more,  save  that  the  meed  5 

Of  sorrow  well-deserv'd  shall  quit  your  wrongs. 

And  now  the  visage  of  that  saintly  light 
Was  to  the  sun,  that  fills  it,  turn'd  again, 
As  to  the  good,  whose  ])lenitude  of  bliss 
Sufficeth  all.     O  ye  misguided  souls  !  10 

Infatuate,  who  from  such  a  good  estrange 
Your  hearts,  and  bend  your  gaze  on  vanity, 
Alas  for  you ! — And  lo  !  toward  me,  next. 
Another  of  those  splendent  forms  approach'd, 
That,  by  its  outward  bright'ning,  testified  15 

The  will  it  hud  to  pleasure  me.     The  eyes 
Of  Beatrice,  resting,  as  before. 
Firmly  upon  me,  manifested  forth 
Approval  of  my  wish.     "  And  O,"  I  cried, 
"Blest  spirit!  quiekly  be  my  will  [lerform'd ;  20 


272  PARADISE. 

And  ])rove  lli()\i  to  me,  thnt  my  iimiost  tliouglits 

I  can  roriect  on  thee."     Thereat  the  light, 

That  yet  was  new  to  mo,  I'rom  tiio  recess. 

Where  it  Lefoi-e  was  singing,  tlius  began, 

As  one  who  joys  in  kindness:  "In  tliat  jjart  25 

Of  the  de])ravM  It;;Iian  hand,  Mliicli  lies 

Between  Kialto,  and  the  fonntain-springs 

Ot"  Brenta  and  of  I'iava,  there  doth  rise, 

But  to  no  lofty  eminence,  a  hill. 

From  whence  erewhile  a  firebrand  did  descend,  30 

That  sorely  slient  the  region.     From  one  root 

I  and  it  s])rang ;  my  name  on  earth  Cunizza: 

And  here  I  glitter,  for  that  by  its  liglit 

This  star  o'ercanie  me.     Yet  I  naught  repine, 

Nor  grudge  myself  the  cause  of  this  my  lot,  35 

Which  haj)ly  vulgar  hearts  can  scarce  conceive. 

"  This  jewel,  that  is  next  me  in  our  heaven, 
Lustrous  and  costly,  gi'eat  renown  hath  left, 
And  not  to  })erish,  ere  these  hundred  years 
Five  times  absolve  their  round.     Consider  thou,  40 

If  to  excel  be  worthy  man's  endeavour. 
When  such  life  may  attend  the  first.     Yet  they 
Care  not  for  this,  the  crowd  that  now  are  girt 
By  Adice  and  Tagliamento,  still 

Impenitent,  tho'  scourg'd.     The  hour  is  near,  45 

When  for  their  stubbornness  at  Padua's  marsh, 
The  water  shall  be  chang'd,  that  laves  Vicena. 
And  where  Cagnano  meets  with  Sile,  one 
Lords  it,  and  bears  his  head  aloft,  for  wliom 
The  Aveb  is  now  a-warping.     Feltro  too  5'> 

Shall  sorrow  for  its  godless  she])herd's  fault, 
Of  so  deep  stain,  that  never,  for  the  like. 
Was  Malta's  bar  unclos'd.     Too  large  should  be 
The  skillet,  that  would  hold  Ferrara's  blood. 
And  wearied  he,  who  ounce  by  ounce  would  weight  it,  55 
The  which  this  priest,  in  show  of  ]>arty-zoal, 
Courteous  will  give  ;  nor  will  the  gift  ill  suit 
The  country's  custom.     We  descry  above. 
Mirrors,  ye  call  tliem  thrones,  from  wliich  to  us 
Reflected  shine  the  judgments  of  our  God ;  60 


PAHA  DISK. 


'^73 


Whence  these  our  sayings  we  avoucli  for  good." 

She  ended,  and  appear'd  on  other  thoughts 
Intent,  re-ent'ring  on  tlie  wheel  slie  late 
Had  left.     Tliat  other  joyance  meanwhile  wax'd 
A  thing  to  marvel  at,  in  si)lendour  glowing,  65 

Like  choicest  rul)y  stricken  by  the  sun. 
For,  in  that  upper  clime,  effulgence  comes 
Of  gladness,  as  here  laughter  :  and  below, 
As  tlie  mind  saddens,  murkier  grows  the  shade. 

"  God  seeth  all :  and  in  hini  is  thy  sight,"  70 

Said  I,  "blest  s])irit !  Therefore  will  of  his 
Cannot  to  thee  be  dark.     Why  then  delays 
Thy  voice  to  satisfy  my  wish  untold. 
That  voice  which  joins  the  inexpressive  song, 
Pastime  of  heav'n,  the  which  those  ardours  sing,  75 

That  cowl  them  with  six  shadowing  wings  outspread  V 
I  would  not  wait  thy  askiiig,  wert  thou  known 
To  me,  as  thoroughly  I  to  thee  am  known." 

He  forthwith  answ'ring,  thus  his  words  began  : 
"  The  valley'  of  Avaters,  widest  next  to  that  80 

Which  doth  the  earth  engarland,  shapes  its  course, 
J3etwcen  discordant  shores,  against  the  sun 
Inward  so  far,  it  makes  meridian  there. 
Where  was  before  th'  horizon.     Of  that  vale 
Dwelt  I  upon  the  shore,  'twixt  Ebro's  stream  85 

And  Macra's,  that  divides  Avith  ])assage  brief 
Genoan  bounds  from  Tuscan.     East  and  west 
Are  nearly  one  to  Begga  and  my  land. 
Whose  haven  erst  was  with  its  own  blood  warm. 
Who  knew  my  name  were  wont  to  call  me  Folco :  00 

And  I  did  bear  impression  of  this  heav'n, 
That  now  bears  mine :  for  not  with  fiercer  flame 
Glow'd  Belus'  daughter,  injuring  alike 
SichjBus  and  Creusa,  than  did  I, 

Long  as  it  suited  the  unripen'd  down  05 

That  fledg'd  my  cheek:  nor  she  of  IMiodope, 
That  was  beguiled  of  7)emophoon  ; 
Nor  Jove's  son,  when  the  charms  of  lole 
Were  shrin'd  within  his  lieart.     And  yet  there  bides 
No  sorrowful  repentance  liere,  but  mirth,  100 

18 


j  274  PARADISE. 

I  Not  for  the  fault  (tli.it  doth  not  come  to  mind), 

'.  ]>utfor  tlic  virtue,  whose  o'erruhng  sway 

I  And  ])r()videuee  have  wrouglit  thus  quaintly.     Here 

II  'i'lie  skill  is  look'd  into,  that  fashioneth 

I      "With  such  effectual  Avorking,  and  the  good  105 

I-      Discern'd,  accruing  to  this  upper  Avorld 
P'roiu  that  below.     But  fully  to  content 
Thy  wishes,  all  that  in  this  sphere  have  birth, 
Demands  my  further  parle.     Inquire  thou  wouldst, 
Who  of  this  light  is  denizen,  that  here  110 

Beside  me  sparkles,  as  the  sun-beam  doth 
On  the  clear  wave.     Know  then,  the  soul  of  Rahab 
Is  in  that  gladsome  harbour,  to  our  tribe 
United,  and  the  foremost  rank  assign'd. 
lie  to  that  heav'n,  at  which  the  shadow  ends  115 

Of  your  sublunar  Avorld,  was  taken  up. 
First,  in  Christ's  triumph,  of  all  souls  redeera'd : 
For  well  behov'd,  that,  in  some  part  of  heav'n, 
She  should  remain  a  trophy,  to  declare 
The  mighty  conquest  won  with  either  palm ;  120 

For  that  she  favour'd  first  the  high  exploit 
Of  Joshua  on  the  holy  land,  whereof 
The  Pope  recks  little  now.     Thy  city,  plant 
Of  him,  that  on  his  Maker  turn'd  the  back. 
And  of  whose  envying  so  much  vroe  hath  sprung,         125 
Engenders  and  exj^ands  the  cursed  flower, 
That  hath  made  wander  both  the  sheep  and  lambs, 
Turning  the  shepherd  to  a  wolf.     For  this, 
The  gospel  and  great  teachers  laid  aside, 
The  decretals,  as  their  stuft  margins  show,  180 

Are  the  sole  study.     Pope  and  Cardinals, 
Intent  on  these,  ne'er  journey  but  in  thought 
To  Nazareth,  where  Gabriel  op'd  his  wings. 
Yet  it  may  chance,  erelong,  the  Vatican, 
And  other  most  selected  parts  of  Rome,  185 

That  were  the  grave  of  Peter's  soldiery. 
Shall  be  deliver'd  from  the'  adult'rous  bond." 


PARADISE.  275 

CANTO  X. 

Looking  into  liis  first-born  witli  tlio  love, 

Wliicli  breathes  fi'om  botli  eternal,  the  first  Might 

Ineffable,  wherever  eye  or  mind 

Can  roam,  hath  in  snch  order  all  disjios'd. 

As  none  may  see  and  fail  to'  enjoy.     Raise,  then,  5 

0  reader!  to  the  lofty  wheels,  with  me. 

Thy  ken  directed  to  the  point,  whereat 

One  motion  strikes  on  th'  otlier.     There  begin 

Thy  wonder  of  the  mighty  Arcliitect, 

Who  loves  lus  work  so  inwardly,  his  eye  10 

Doth  ever  watch  it.     See,  how  thence  oblique 

Brancheth  the  circle,  where  the  planets  roll 

To  pour  their  wishe<l  influence  on  the  world  ; 

Whose  ])ath  not  bending  thus,  in  heav'n  above 

Much  virtue  would  be  lost,  and  here  on  earth,  15 

All  power  well  nigh  extinct :  or,  from  direct 

Were  its  departure  distant  more  or  less, 

I'  th'  universal  order,  great  defect 

Must,  both  in  heav'n  and  here  beneath,  ensue. 

Now  rest  thee,  reader !  on  thy  bench,  and  muse  20 

Anticipative  of  the  feast  to  come  ; 
So  shall  delight  make  thee  not  feel  thy  toil. 
Lo  !  I  have  set  before  thee,  for  thyself 
Feed  now :  the  matter  I  indite,  henceforth 
Demands  entire  my  thought,     Join'd  with  the  i)art,       25 
Which  late  we  told  of,  the  great  minister 
Of  nature,  that  upon  the  world  imprints 
The  virtue  of  the  heaven,  and  doles  out 
Time  for  us  with  his  beam,  went  circling  on 
Along  the  spires,  where  each  hour  sooner  conies';  30 

And  I  was  with  him,  weetless  of  ascent. 
As  one,  who  till  arriv'd,  weets  not  his  coming. 

For  Beatrice,  she  who  passeth  on 
So  suddenly  from  good  to  better,  time 
Counts  not  the  act,  oh  then  how  great  must  needs  35 

Have  been  her  brightness  !  What  she  was  i'  th'  sun 
(Where  I  had  enter'd),  not  through  change  of  hue, 
But  light  transparent — did  I  summon  up 


276  PAliADISK. 

Genius,  art,  practice — I  miglit  not  so  speak, 

It  sliould  be  e'er  imagin'd  :  yet  believ'd  40 

It  may  be,  and  the  sight  be  justly  crav'd. 

Aiul  if  our  fantasy  fail  of  such  height, 

Wliat  marvel,  since  no  eye  above  the  sun 

Ilath  ever  travel'd  ?  Such  are  they  dwell  here, 

Fourth  family  of  the  Omnipotent  Sire,  45 

Who  of  his  spirit  and  of  his  offspring  shows  ; 

And  holds  them  still  enraptur'd  with  the  view. 

And  thus  to  me  Beatrice  :  "  Thank,  oh  thank, 

The  Sun  of  angels,  him,  who  by  his  grace 

To  this  perceptible  hath  lifted  thee."  60 

Never  was  heart  in  such  devotion  bound, 
And  with  complacency  so  absolute 
Dispos'd  to  render  up  itself  to  God, 
As  mine  was  at  those  words  :  and  so  entire 
Tlie  love  for  Him,  that  held  me,  it  eclips'd  55 

Beatrice  in  oblivion.     Naught  displeased 
Was  she,  but  smil'd  thereat  so  joyously. 
That  of  her  laughing  eyes  the  radiance  brake 
And  scatter'd  my  collected  mind  abroad. 

Then  saw  I  a  bright  band,  in  liveliness  60 

Surpassing,  Avho  themselves  did  make  the  crown, 
And  us  their  centre :  yet  more  sweet  in  voice. 
Than  in  their  visage  beaming.     Cinctur'd  thus, 
Sometime  Latona's  daughter  we  behold. 
When  the  impregnate  air  retains  the  thread,  65 

That  weaves  her  zone.     In  the  celestial  court, 
Whence  I  return,  are  many  jewels  found, 
So  dear  and  beautiful,  they  cannot  brook 
Transporting  from  that  realm  :  and  of  these  lights 
Such  was  the  song.     Who  doth  not  prune  his  wing       70 
To  soar  up  thither,  let  him  look  from  thence 
For  tidings  from  the  dumb.     When,  singing  thus. 
Those  burning  suns  that  circled  round  us  thrice. 
As  nearest  stars  around  the  fixed  pole. 
Then  seem'd  they  like  to  ladies,  from  the  dance  7£ 

Not  ceasing,  but  sus^^ense,  in  silent  pause, 
List'ning,  till  they  have  caught  the  strain  anew  : 
Susi^ended  so  they  stood  :  and,  from  within, 


PARADISE.  277 

Tims  lioard  I  one,  wlio  spake:  "  Since  with  its  beam 

Tlie  gi-ace,  wlience  true  love  ligliteth  first  his  flame,      80 

That  aflcii-  (loth  increase  by  loving,  shines 

So  inultiplied  in  thee,  it  leads  thee  up 

Along  this  ladder,  down  whose  hallow'd  steps 

None  e'er  descend,  and  mount  them  not  again, 

j       Who  from  his  phial  should  refuse  thee  wine  85 

I        To  slake  thy  thirst,  no  less  constrained  were, 

j        Than  water  flowing  not  unto  the  sea. 

Thou  fain   wouldst  hear,  what  i)lants    are    these,  that 

I  bloom 

In  the  bright  garland,  which,  admiring,  girds 

This  fair  dame  round,  who  strengthens  thee  for  heav'n.  90 

I  then  was  of  the  lambs,  that  Dominic 

Leads,  for  his  saintly  flock,  along  the  way, 

Where  well  they  thrive,  not  swoln  with  vanity. 

He,  nearest  on  my  right  hand,  brother  was, 

I       And  master  to  me  :  Albert  of  Cologne  95 

i       Is  this  :  and  of  Aquinum,  Thomas  I. 

;       If  thou  of  all  the  rest  wouldst  be  assur'd, 

I       Let  thine  eye,  waiting  on  the  words  I  speak, 

I       In  circuit  journey  round  the  blessed  wreath. 

That  next  res])lendence  issues  from  the  smile  100 

Of  Gratian,  who  to  either  forum  lent 

!!       Such  help,  as  favour  wins  in  Paradise. 
The  other,  nearest,  who  adorns  our  quire, 

I       Was  Peter,  he  that  with  the  widow  gave 

\       To  holy  church  his  treasure.     The  fifth  light,  105 

>       Goodliest  of  all,  is. by  such  love  inspir'd, 

j       That  all  your  world  craves  tidings  of  its  doom : 

!       Within,  there  is  the  lofty  light,  endow'd 

I       With  sapience  so  profound,  if  truth  be  truth, 

j       That  with  a  ken  of  such  wide  amplitude  110 

I       No  second  liath  arisen.     Next  behold 

[       That  taper's  radiance,  to  whose  view  was  shown, 

\       Clearliest,  the  nature  and  the  ministry 

I      Angelical,  while  yet  in  flesh  it  dwelt. 

•       In  the  other  little  light  serenely  smiles  115 

That  ])leader  for  the  Christian  temples,  he, 
Who  did  provide  Augustin  of  his  lore. 


"1  "•■ 


278  PARADISE. 

Now,  if  tliy  miii<Ts  eye  ]t;iss  from  lii^-lit  to  light, 

Upon  iny  j)raises  following,  of  the  eighth 

Thy  thirst  is  next.     The  suintly  soul,  that  shows         120 

The  world's  deceitfulness,  to  all  who  hear  him, 

Is,  Avith  the  siglit  of  all  the  good,  that  is, 

Blest  there.     Tlie  limbs,  whence  it  was  driven,  lie 

Down  in  Cieldauro,  and  from  martyrdom 

And  exile  came  it  here.     Lo  !  further  on,  125 

Where  flames  the  ardurous  spirit  of  Isidore, 

Of  Bede,  and  Richard,  more  than  man,  erewhile, 

In  deep  discernment.     Lastly  this,  from  whom 

Thy  look  on  me  reverteth,  was  the  beam 

Of  one,  whose  spirit,  on  high  musings  bent,  130 

Rebuk'd  tlie  ling'ring  tardiness  of  death. 

It  is  the  eternal  light  of  Sigebert, 

Who  'scap'd  not  envy,  Avhen  of  truth  he  argued, 

Reading  in  the  straw-litter'd  street."     Forthwith, 

As  clock,  that  calleth  up  the  spouse  of  God  135 

To  win  her  bridegroom's  love  at  matin's  hour, 

Each  part  of  other  fitly  drawn  and  urg'd. 

Sends  out  a  tinkling  sound,  of  note  so  sweet, 

Affection  springs  in  well-disposed  breast ; 

Thus  saw  I  move  the  glorious  wheel,  thus  heard  140 

Voice  answ'ring  voice,  so  musical  and  soft, 

It  can  be  known  but  where  day  endless  shines. 


CANTO  XI. 

O  POND  anxiety  of  mortal  men  ! 

How  vain  and  inconclusive  arguments 

Are  those,  which  make  thee  beat  thy  wings  below ! 

For  statues  one,  and  one  for  aphorisms 

Was  hunting  ;  this  the  priesthood  follow'd,  that  5 

By  force  or  sophistry  nspir'd  to  rule  ; 

To  rob  another,  and  another  sought 

By  civil  business  wealth  ;  one  moiling  lay 

Tangled  in  net  of  sensual  delight. 

And  one  to  witless  indolence  resign'd ;  10 

What  time  from  all  those  emiity  things  escap'd, 


PAR'ADTSE.  279 

VV^itli  r>catrico,  I  llius  gloriously 

Was  rais'd  aloft,  and  made  the  guest  of  heav'n. 

They  of  the  circle  to  that  point,  each  one. 
Wliere  erst  it  was,  had  turn'd  ;  and  steady  glow'd,        15 
As  candle  in  his  socket.     Then  within 
Tile  lustre,  that  erewhile  l)esj)ake  me,  smiling 
Witli  merer  gladness,  heard  I  thus  begin  : 

"  E'en  as  his  beam  illumes  me,  so  I  look 
Into  the  eternal  light,  and  clearly  mark  20 

Thy    thoughts,  from  whence    they  rise.     Thou    art    in 

doubt, 
And  wouldst,  that  I  should  bolt  my  words  afresh 
In  such  plain  open  phrase,  as  may  be  smooth 
To  thy  perception,  where  I  told  thee  late 
That  '  well  they  thrive  ; '  and  that  '  no  second  such        25 
Hath  risen,'  which  no  small  distinction  needs. 

"  The  providence,  that  governeth  the  world, 
In  de|)th  of  counsel  by  created  ken 
Unfathomable,  to  the  end  that  she. 

Who  with  loud  cries  was  's])ous'd  in  precious  blood,      30 
Might  keep  her  footing  towards  her  well-belov'd, 
Safe  in  herself  and  constant  unto  him, 
Ilath  two  ordain'd,  who  should  on  either  hand 
In  chief  escort  her :  one  seraphic  all 

In  fervency  ;  for  wisdom  upon  earth,  35 

The  other  sj^lendour  of  cherubic  light.  - 
I  but  of  one  will  tell :  he  tells  of  both, 
Who  one  commendeth,  Avhich  of  them  so'er 
Be  taken  :  for  their  deeds  were  to  one  end. 

"  Between  Tupino,  and  the  wave,  that  falls  40 

From  blest  Ubaldo's  chosen  hill,  there  hangs 
Rich  slope  of  mountain  high,  whence  heat  and  cold 
Are  wafted  through  Perugia's  eastern  gate  : 
And  Norcera  with  Gualdo,  in  its  rear 
Mourn  for  their  heavy  yoke.     Upon  that  side,  45 

Where  it  doth  break  its  steepness  most,  arose 
A  sun  upon  the  world,  as  duly  this 
From  Ganges  doth :  therefore  let  none,  who  speak 
Of  that  place,  say  Ascesi ;  for  its  name 
Were  lamely  so  deliver'd  ;  but  the  East,  50 


280  PAIiADISE. 

To  call  tliinf^s  rio;litly,  be  it  licnccfortli  stylM. 
Jle  was  not  yet  much  distant  from  liis  rising, 
When  Lis  good  influence  'gan  to  bless  the  earth. 
A  dame  to  whom  none  o])eneth  phnisure's  gate 
More  than  to  death,  was,  'gainst  his  father's  will,  55 

His  stripling  choice  :  and  he  did  make  her  his, 
J^cfore  the  sj)iritual  court,  by  nuptial  bonds. 
And  in  his  father's  sight :  from  day  to  day, 
Then  lov'd  her  more  devoutly.     She,  bereav'd 
Of  her  first  husband,  slighted  and  obscure,  60 

Thousand  and  hundred  years  and  more,  remain'd 
Without  a  single  suitor,  till  he  came. 
Nor  aught  avail'd,  that,  with  Amyclas,  she 
Was  found  unmov'd  at  rumour  of  his  voice, 
Who  shook  the  world  :    nor  aught  her  constant  bold- 
ness 05 
Wliereby  with  Christ  she  monnted  on  the  cross, 
When  Mary  stay'd  beneath.     But  not  to  deal 
Thus  closely  with  thee  longer,  take  at  large 
The  lovers'  titles — Poverty  and  Francis. 
Their  concord  and  glad  looks,  wonder  and  love,              70 
And  sweet  regard  gave  birth  to  holy  thoughts. 
So  much,  that  venerable  Bernard  first 
Did  bare  his  feet,  and,  in  pursuit  of  jieace 
So  lieavenly,  ran,  yet  dcem'd  his  footing  slow. 
O  hidden  riches  !  O  prolific  good  !                                      75 
Egidius  bares  him  next,  and  next  Sylvester, 
And  follow  both  the  bridegroom  ;  so  the  bride 
Can  please  them.     Thenceforth  goes  he  on  his  way, 
^      The  father  and  the  master,  with  his  spouse, 
I      And  with  that  family,  Avhoni  now  the  cord                       80 
\      Girt  humbly  :  nor  did  abjectness  of  heart 
I      Weigh  down  his  eyelids,  for  that  he  was  son 
I      Of  Pietro  Bernardone,  and  by  men 
I      In  wond'rous  sort  despis'd.     But  royally 
I     His  hard  intention  he  to  Innocent                                       85 
I      Set  forth,  and  from  him  first  receiv'd  the  seal 
f     Ou  his  religion.     Then,  wdien  numerous  flock'd 
I      The  tribe  of  lowly  ones,  that  trac'd  his  steps, 
i      Whose  marvellous  life  deservedly  were  sung 


PARADISE.  281 

In  hciglits  OTn]iyroa],  tlu-oi'.oli  Ilonorins'  hand  90 

A  second  crown,  to  deck  llieir  Clunrdinn's  virtues, 
Was  by  tlie'  eternal  Sj>irit  inwreath'd  :  and  "wlien 
lie  liad,  tlirou^li  tliir^t  of  niartyrdoui,  stood  up 
In  tlie  ])i-oud  Soldan's  presence,  and  tliere  preach'd 
Clirist  and  his  followers ;  but  found  tlie  race  96 

Unrijien'd  for  conversion  :  back  once  more 
He  liasted  (not  to  intermit  liis  toil), 
And  reaj)'d  Ausonian  lands.     On  the  hard  rock, 
'Twixt  Arno  and  the  Tybei-,  he  from  Christ 
Took  the  last  signet,  which  his  limbs  two  years  100 

Did  carry.     Then  the  season  come,  that  he, 
Who  to  such  good  had  destin'd  him,  Avas  ].'leas'd 
(      T'  advance  him  to  the  meed,  Avhich  he  had  earu'd 
I      By  his  self-humbling,  to  his  brotherhood, 
i      As  their  just  heritage,  he  gave  in  charge  105 

{       Plis  dearest  lady,  and  enjoin'd  their  love 

And  faith  to  her  :  and,  from  her  bosom,  will'd 
(       Plis  goodly  s})irit  should  move  forth,  returning 
I      To  its  appointed  kingdom,  nor  would  have 
s       His  body  laid  upon  another  bier.  110 

I  "  Think  noAV  of  one,  who  were  a  fit  colleague, 

I      To  keep  the  bark  of  Peter  in  deej5  sea 
i      Helm'd  to  right  point ;  and  such  our  Patriarch  was. 
;      Therefore  who  follow  him,  as  he  enjoins, 
I      Thou  mayst  be  certain,  take  good  lading  in.  115 

I      But  hunger  of  new  viands  tempts  his  flock, 
i      So  that  they  needs  into  strange  pastures  wide 
;      INIust  spread  them  :  and  the  more  remote  from  him 
t      The  stragglers  wander,  so  much  more  they  come 
I      Home  to  tlie  sheep-fold,  destitute  of  milk.  120 

I      There  are  of  them,  in  truth,  who  fear  their  harm, 
;      And  to  the  shepherd  cleave  ;  but  these  so  few, 
j       A  little  stuff  may  furnish  out  their  cloaks. 

"Now,  if  my  words  be  clear,  if  thou  have  ta'en 
I      Good  heed,  if  that,  which  I  h.ave  told,  recall  125 

I      To  mind,  thy  Avish  may  be  in  part  fulfill'd  : 

For  thou  Avilt  see  the  ]dant  from  Avhence  they  split, 
j      Nor  miss  of  the  reproof,  Avhich  that  implies, 
'  That  Avell  they  thrive  not  sAvolu  Avith  vanity.'  " 


282  PARADISE. 

CANTO  XII. 

Soon  as  its  final  word  the  blessed  flame 

Had  rais'd  for  utterance,  straight  the  holy  mill 

Began  to  wheel,  nor  yet  had  once  revolv'd, 

Or  ere  another,  circling,  compass'd  it, 

Motion  to  motion,  song  to  song,  conjoining,  6 

Song,  that  as  much  our  muses  doth  excel, 

Our  Syrens  with  their  tuneful  ])ij)es,  as  ray 

Of  primal  splendour  doth  its  faint  reflex. 

As  when,  if  Juno  bid  her  handmaid  forth, 
Two  arches  parallel,  and  trick'd  alike,  10 

Span  the  thin  cloud,  the  outer  taking  birth 
From  that  within  (in  manner  of  that  voice 
Whom  love  did  melt  away,  as  sun  the  mist). 
And  they  who  gaze,  presageful  call  to  mind 
The  compact,  made  with  Noah,  of  the  world  15 

No  more  to  be  o'erflow'd  ;  about  us  thus 
Of  sempiternal  roses,  bending,  wreath'd 
Those  garlands  twain,  and  to  the  innermost 
E'en  thus  tli'  external  answered.     When  the  footing, 
And  other  great  festivity,  of  song,  20 

And  radiance,  light  with  light  accordant,  each 
Jocund  and  blythe,  had  at  their  pleasure  still'd 
(E'en  as  the  eyes  by  quick  volition  mov'd. 
Are  shut  and  rais'd  together),  from  the  heart 
Of  one  amongst  the  new  lights  mov'd  a  voice,  25 

That  made  me  seem  like  needle  to  the  star, 
In  turning  to  its  whereabout,  and  thus 
Began  :  "  The  love,  that  makes  me  beautiful. 
Prompts  me  to  tell  of  th'  other  guide,  for  whom 
Such  good  of  mine  is  spoken.     Where  one  is,  30 

The  other  worthily  should  also  be  ; 
That  as  their  warfare  was  alike,  alike 
Should  be  their  glory.     Slow,  and  full  of  doubt. 
And  with  thin  ranks,  after  its  banner  mov'd 
The  army'  of  Christ  (which  it  so  dearly  cost  35 

To  reappoint),  when  its  imperial  Head, 
Who  reigneth  ever,  for  the  drooping  host 
Did  make  provision,  thorough  grace  alone, 


PAUADISK.  283 

And  not  tlirongli  its  deserving.     As  tlioii  hofird'st, 

Two  cliainpions  to  the  succour  of  his  spouse  40 

He  sent,  wlio  by  tlieir  deeds  and  words  miglit  jo'u 

Again  liis  scatter'd  people.     In  tliat  clime, 

Where  sjirings  the  pleasant  west-wind  to  unfold 

The  fresh  leaves,  with  Avhich  Europe  sees  hersel' 

Kew-garmented  ;  nor  from  those  hillows  far,  45 

Beyond  whose  chiding,  after  weary  course, 

Tlie  sun  doth  sometimes  hide  him,  safe  abides 

The  liappy  Callaroga,  under  guard 

Of  the  great  shield,  Avherein  the  lion  lies 

Subjected  and  supreme.     And  there  was  born  50 

The  loving  minion  of  the  Christian  faith, 

The  hollow'd  Avrestler,  gentle  to  his  own, 

And  to  his  enemies  terrible.     So  replete 

His  soul  with  lively  virtue,  that  when  first 

Created,  even  in  the  mother's  womb,  55 

It  prophesied.     When,  at  the  sacred  font, 

The  spousals  were  complete  'twixt  faith  and  him, 

Where  pledge  of  mutual  safety  was  exchang'd, 

The  dame,  wlio  was  his  surety,  in  her  sleep 

Beheld  the  wondrous  fruit,  that  was  fi'om  him  60 

And  from  his  heirs  to  issue.     And  that  such 

He  might  be  construed,  as  indeed  he  Avas, 

She  was  inspir'd  to  name  hira  of  his  owner. 

Whose  he  was  wholly,  and  so  call'd  him  Dominic. 

And  I  speak  of  him,  as  the  labourer,  65 

Whom  Christ  in  his  own  garden  chose  to  be 

His  help-mate.     Messenger  he  seem'd,  and  friend 

Fast-knit  to  Christ;  and  the  first  love  he  show'd, 

Was  after  the  first  counsel  that  Christ  gave. 

Many  a  time  his  nurse,  at  entering,  found  70 

That  he  had  ris'n  in  silence,  and  was  prostrate, 

As  who  should  say,  '  My  errand  was  for  this.' 

O  hajipy  father  !  Felix  rightly  nam'd  ! 

O  favour'd  mother!  rightly  nam'd  Joanna! 

If  that  do  mean,  as  men  interpret  it.  75 

Not  for  the  world's  sake,  for  which  now  they  pore 

Upon  Ostiense  and  Taddeo's  page, 

But  for  the  real  manna,  soon  he  grew 


284  PARADISE. 

Mi,<>lity  in  learning;,  and  did  set  liiinsflf 
To  go  about  the  vineyard,  that  soon  turns  80 

To  wan  and  vvither'd,  if  not  tended  well  : 
And  from  the  see  (whose  bounty  to  the  just 
And  needy  is  gone  by,  not  through  its  fault, 
]]ut  his  who  fills  it  basely),  he  besought, 
No  disj)ensation  for  commuted  wrong,  85 

Nor  the  first  vacant  fortune,  nor  the  tenths, 
That  to  God's  paujiers  riglitly  appertain. 
But,  'gainst  an  erring  and  degenerate  world. 
Licence  to  h'ght,  in  favour  of  that  seed, 
From  which  the  twice  twelve  cions  gird  thee  round.     90 
Then,  with  sage  doctrhie  and  good  will  to  help, 
P^orth  on  his  great  apostleship  he  far'd. 
Like  torrent  bursting  from  a  lofty  vein  ; 
And,  dashing  'gainst  the  stocks  of  heresy. 
Smote  fiercest,  where  resistance  Avas  most  stout.  95 

Thence  many  rivulets  have  since  been  turn'd, 
Over  the  garden  Catholic  to  lead 
Their  living  waters,  and  have  fed  its  plants. 
"  If  such  one  wheel  of  that  two-yoked  car, 
Wherein  the  holy  church  defended  her,  100 

And  rode  trium})hant  through  the  civil  broil. 
Thou  canst  not  doubt  its  fellow's  excellence. 
Which  Thomas,  ere  my  coming,  hath  declar'd 
So  courteously  unto  thee.     But  the  track, 
Which  its  smooth  fellies  made,  is  now  deserted  :  105 

That  mouldy  mother  is  where  late  were  lees. 
His  family,  that  wont  to  trace  his  path. 
Turn  backward,  and  invert  their  steps  ;  erelong 
To  rue  the  gathering  in  of  their  ill  crop, 
When  the  rejected  tares  in  vain  shall  ask  110 

Admittance  to  the  barn.     I  question  not 
But  he,  who  search'd  our  volume,  leaf  by  leaf, 
Might  still  find  page  with  this  inscription  on't, 
'I  am  as  I  was  wont.'     Yet  such  Avere  not 
From  Acquasparta  nor  Casale,  whence  lit 

Of  those,  who  come  to  meddle  with  the  text, 
One  stretches  and  another  cramps  its  rule. 
Bonaventura's  life  in  me  behold, 


PARADISE.  285 

From  Bngiiororogio,  one,  who  in  discharge 

Of  my  Ljrcat  offices  still  laid  aside  120 

All  sinister  aim.     Illiiminato  here, 

And  Agostino  join  me :  two  they  were, 

Among  the  first  of  those  barefooted  meek  ones, 

Who  sought  God's  friendsliij)  in  the  cord :  with  tlieni 

Ilugues  of  Saint  Victor,  Pietro  Mangiadore,  125 

And  lie  of  Spain  in  his  twelve  volumes  shining, 

Nathan  the  prophet,  Metropolitan 

Chrysostom,  and  Anselmo,  and,  who  deign'd 

To  put  his  hand  to  the  first  art,  Donatus. 

Raban  is  here  :  and  at  my  side  there  shines  130 

Calabria's  abbot,  Joachim,  endow'd 

With  soul  prophetic.     The  bright  courtesy 

Of  friar  Thomas,  and  his  goodly  lore. 

Have  mov'd  me  to  the  blazon  of  a  peer 

iSo  worthy,  and  with  me  have  mov'd  this  throng."       lo5 


CANTO  XIII. 

Let  him,  who  would  conceive  what  now  I  saw, 

Imagine  (and  retain  the  image  firm. 

As  mountain  rock,  the  whilst  he  hears  me  speak), 

Of  stars  fifteen,  from  midst  the  ethereal  host 

Selected,  that,  with  lively  ray  serene,  5 

O'ercome  the  massiest  air :  thereto  imagine 

The  wain,  that,  in  the  bosom  of  our  sky, 

Si)ins  ever  on  its  axle  night  and  day. 

With  the  bright  summit  of  that  horn  which  swells 

Due  from  the  pole,  round  which  the  first  wheel  rolls,     10 

T'  have  rang'd  themselves  in  fashion  of  two  signs 

In  heav'n,  such  as  Ariadne  made. 

When  death's  chill  seized  her ;  and  that  one  of  them 

Did  compass  in  the  other's  beam  ;  and  both 

In  such  sort  Avhirl  around,  that  each  should  tend  15 

With  opposite  motion  :  and,  conceiving  thus. 

Of  that  true  constellation,  and  the  dance 

Twofold,  that  circled  me,  he  shall  attain 

As  't  were  the  shadow  ;  for  things  there  as  much 


286  PA  K A  DISK. 

Surpass  our  usage,  ns  tlie  swiftest  heav'n  2^ 

Is  swifter  than  the  Chiana.     There  was  sung 

No  Bacchus,  and  no  lo  Pasan,  but 

Three  Persons  in  the  Godhead,  and  in  one 

Substance  that  nature  and  the  liuman  join'd. 

The  song  fultill'd  its  measure  ;  and  to  us  25 

Those  saintly  liglits  attended,  liappier  made 
At  each  new  minist'ring.     Then  silence  brake, 
Amid  th'  accordant  sons  of  Deity, 
That  luminary,  in  which  the  wondrous  life 
Of  the  meek  man  of  God  was  told  to  me  ;  30 

And  thus  it  spake  :  "  One  ear  o'  th'  harvest  thresh'd, 
And  its  grain  safely  stor'd,  sweet  charity 
Invites  me  Avith  the  other  to  like  toil. 

"  Thou  know'st,  that  in  the  bosom,  whence  tlie  rib 
Was  ta'en  to  fashion  that  fair  cheek,  whose  taste  35 

All  the  world  pays  for,  and  in  that,  which  pierc'd 
By  the  keen  lance,  both  after  and  before 
Such  satisfaction  offer'd,  as  outweighs 
Each  evil  in  the  scale,  whate'er  of  light 
To  human  nature  is  allow'd,  must  all  40 

Have  by  his  virtue  been  infus'd,  who  form'd 
Both  one  and  other :  and  thou  thence  admir'st 
In  that  I  told  thee,  of  beatitudes 
A  second,  there  is  none,  to  his  enclos'd 
In  the  fifth  radiance.     Open  now  thine  eyes  45 

To  what  I  answer  thee  ;  and  thou  shalt  see 
Thy  deeming  and  my  saying  meet  in  truth, 
As  centre  in  the  round.     Tliat  which  dies  not. 
And  that  which  can  die,  are  but  each  the  beam 
Of  that  idea,  which  our  Sovereign  Sire  50 

Engendereth  loving  ;  for  that  lively  light. 
Which  passeth  from  lus  brightness,  not  disjoin'd 
From  him,  nor  fi'om  his  love  triune  with  them, 
Doth,  through  his  bounty,  congregate  itself, 
Mirror'd,  as  't  were  in  new  existences,  55 

Itself  unalterable  and  ever  one, 

"Descending  hence  unto  the  lowest  powers, 
Its  energy  so  sinks,  at  last  it  makes 
But  brief  conting;encies  :  for  so  I  name 


rAKADISK.  287 

Thinc^s  exonerated,  wlucli  the  heav'nly  orbs  60 

Movinu;,  with  seed  or  Avitliout  seed,  ])n)duce. 

Their  wax,  and  that  which  molds  it,  differ  much  : 

And  tlicnce  Avith  lustre,  more  or  less,  it  shows 

Th'  ideal  stamj)  imprest :  so  that  one  tree 

According  to  his  kind,  hath  better  fruit,  65 

And  worse  :  and,  at  you  birth,  ye,  mortal  men, 

Are  in  your  talents  various.   |Were  the  Avax 

Molded  with  nice  exactness,  and  the  heav'n 

In  its  disposing  influence  supreme, 

The  lustre  of  the  seal  should  be  complete  :  70 

But  nature  renders  it  imperfect  ever, 

Resembling  thus  the  artist  in  her  Avork, 

Whose  faultering  hand  is  faithless  to  his  skill. 

Howe'er,  if  love  itself  dispose,  and  mark 

The  primal  virtue,  kindling  with  bright  view,  75 

There  all  perfection  is  vouchsafed  ;  and  such 

The  clay  was  made,  accomplish'd  with  each  gift, 

That  life  can  teem  with ;  such  the  burden  fili'd 

The  virgin's  bosom  :  so  that  I  commend 

Thy  judgment,  that  the  human  nature  ne'er  80 

Was  or  can  be,  such  as  in  them  it  was.  5 

"  Did  I  advance  no  further  than  this  point, 
*  How  then  had  be  no  peer  ?  '  thou  might'st  reply. 
But,  that  what  now  appears  not,  may  appear 
Right  plainly,  ponder,  who  he  was,  and  Avhat  85 

(When  he  was  bidden  '  Ask  '),  the  motive  sway'd 
To  his  requesting.     I  have  spoken  thus, 
That  thou  mayst  see,  he  was  a  king,  who  ask'd 
For  wisdom,  to  the  end  he  might  be  king 
SufKcient :  not  the  number  to  search  out  90 

Of  the  celestial  movers  ;  or  to  know, 
If  necessary  with  contingent  e'er 
Have  made  necessity ;  or  whether  that 
Be  granted,  that  first  motion  is  ;  or  if 
Of  the  mid  circle  can,  by  art,  be  made  95 

Triangle  with  each  corner,  blunt  or  sharp. 

"Whence,  noting  that,  which  I  have  said,  and  this, 
Thou  kingly  prudence  and  that  ken  mayst  learn, 
At  which  the  dart  of  my  intention  aims. 


288  PARADISE. 

And,  inMi-kiiiu;  clearly,  that  I  told  thee,  'Risen,'  100 

Tliou  shalt  discern  it  only  liath  respect 

To  kings,  of  whom  are  many,  and  the  good 

Are  rare.     With  this  distinction  take  my  words  ; 

And  they  may  well  consist  with  that  which  thou 

Of  the  first  human  father  dost  believe,  105 

And  of  our  well-beloved.     And  let  this 

Henceforth  be  led  unto  thy  feet,  to  make 

Thee  slow  in  motion,  as  a  weary  man. 

Both  to  the  '  yea  '  and  to  the  '  nay '  thou  seost  not. 

For  he  among  the  fools  is  down  full  low,  110 

Whose  affirmation,  or  denial,  is 

Without  distinction,  in  each  case  alike 

Since  it  befals,  that  in  most  instances 

Current  opinion  leads  to  false  :  and  then 

Affection  bends  the  judgment  to  lier  ply.  115 

"Much  more  than  vainly  doth  he  loose  from  shore, 
Since  he  returns  not  such  as  he  set  fortli. 
Who  fishes  for  the  truth  and  wanteth  skill. 
And  ojicn  proofs  of  this  vinto  the  world 
Have  been  afforded  in  Parraenides,  120 

Melissus,  Bryso,  and  the  crowd  beside, 
Who  journey'd  on,  and  knew  not  whither:  so  did 
Sabellius,  Arius,  and  the  other  fools, 
Who,  like  to  scymitars,  reflected  back 
The  scripture-image,  by  distortion  marr'd.  125 

"Let  not  the  people  be  too  swift  to  jndgc, 
As  one  who  reckons  on  the  blades  in  field. 
Or  ere  the  crop  be  ripe.     For  I  have  seen 
Tlie  thorn  frown  rudely  all  the  winter  long 
And  after  bear  the  rose  upon  its  top  ;  130 

And  bark,  that  all  the  way  across  the  sea 
Ran  straight  and  speedy,  perish  at  the  last, 
E'en  in  the  haven's  mouth.     Seeing  one  steal. 
Another  bring  his  offering  to  the  priest. 
Let  not  Dame  Birtha  and  Sir  Martin  thence  135 

Into  heav'n's  counsels  deem  that  they  can  pry : 
For  one  of  these  may  rise,  the  other  fall." 


PAKADISE.  289 

CANTO  XIV. 

P'kom  conti'C'  to  tlie  circle,  and  so  back 

From  circle  to  the  ccnti-e,  water  moves 

In  the  round  chalice,  even  as  the  blow 

Im]>els  it,  inwardly,  or  from  without. 

Such  was  the  image  glanc'd  into  my  mind,  5 

As  the  great  s])irit  of  Aqninum  ccas'd  ; 

And  Beatrice  after  him  her  words 

Resuni'd  alternate  :  "Need  there  is  (the'  yet 

He  tells  it  to  you  not  in  words,  nor  e'en 

In  thought)  that  he  should  fathom  to  its  depth  10 

Another  mystery.     Tell  him,  if  the  light. 

Wherewith  your  substance  blooms,  shall  stay  with  you 

Eternally,  as  now  :  and,  if  it  doth, 

How,  when  ye  shall  regain  your  visible  forms. 

The  sight  may  without  harm  endure  the  change,  15 

Tliat  also  tell."     As  those,  who  in  a  ring 

Tread  the  light  measure,  in  their  fitful  mirth 

liaise  loud  the  voice,  and  spring  with  gladder  bound  ; 

Thus,  at  the  hearing  of  that  pious  suit, 

The  saintly  circles  in  their  tourneying  20 

And  wond'rous  note  attested  new  delight. 

Whoso  laments,  that  we  must  doff  this  garb 
Of  frail  mortality,  thenceforth  to  live 
Immortally  above,  he  hath  not  seen 
The  sweet  refreshing  of  that  heav'nly  shower.  25 

Him,  wlio  lives  ever,  and  for  ever  reigns 
In  mystic  union  of  the  Three  in  One, 
Unbounded,  bounding  all,  each  spirit  thrice 
Sang,  with  such  melody,  as  but  to  hear 
For  highest  merit  were  an  ample  meed.  30 

And  from  the  lesser  orb  the  goodliest  light, 
With  gentle  voice  and  mild,  such  as  perhaps 
The  angel's  once  to  Mary,  thus  re))lied  : 
"Long  as  the  joy  of  Paradise  shall  last. 
Our  love  shall  shine  around  that  raiment,  bright,  35 

As  fervent ;  fervent,  as  in  vision  blest ; 
And  that  as  far  in  blessedness  exceeding, 
As  it  hath  grave  beyond  its  virtue  great, 

19 


290  PAKADISK. 

Our  sba]io,  regarmentcd  witli  glorious  weeds 

Of  saintly  flesh,  must,  being  thus  entire,  40 

Show  yet  moi-c  gracious.     Therefore  shall  increase, 

AVhate'er  of  light,  gi-atuitous,  ini])arts 

The  Supreme  Good  ;  light,  niinistei-ing  aid, 

The  better  disclose  his  glory  :  whence 

The  vision  needs  increasing,  much  increase  45 

The  fervour,  which  it  kindles  ;  and  that  too 

The  ray,  tiiat  comes  from  it.     But  as  the  gieed 

Which  gives  out  flame,  yet  it  its  whiteness  shines 

More  livelily  than  that,  and  so  preserves 

Its  proper  semblance  ;  thus  this  circling  sphere  50 

Of  splendour,  shall  to  view  less  radiant  seem, 

Than  shall  our  fleshly  robe,  which  yonder  earth 

Now  covers.     Nor  will  such  excess  of  light 

O'erpower  us,  in  corporeal  organs  made 

Firm,  and  susceptible  of  all  delight."  55 

So  ready  and  so  cordial  an  "  Amen," 
Followed  from  eitlier  clioir,  as  plainly  spoke 
Desire  of  their  dead  bodies ;  yet  ])erchance 
Not  for  themselves,  but  for  their  kindred  dear. 
Mothers  and  sires,  and  those  whom  best  they  lov'd,       GO 
Ere  they  wei'e  made  imperishable  flame. 

And  lo  !  forthwitli  there  rose  up  round  about 
A  kistre  over  that  already  there. 
Of  equal  clearness,  like  the  brightening  up 
Of  the  liorizon.     As  at  evening  hour  65 

Of  twilight,  new  appearances  through  heav'n 
Peer  with  faint  glimmer,  doubtfully  descried  ; 
So  there  new  substances,  methought  began 
To  rise  in  view ;  and  round  the  other  twain 
Enwheeling,  sweep  their  ampler  circuit  wide.  70 

O  genuine  glitter  of  eternal  Beam  ! 
With  what  a  sudden  whiteness  did  it  flow, 
O'erpowering  ^•ision  in  me  !     But  so  fair, 
So  passing  lovely,  Beatrice  show'd. 

Mind  cannot  follow  it,  nor  words  express  75 

Her  infinite  sweetness.     Thence  mine  eyes  regain'd 
Power  to  look  up,  and  I  beheld  myself, 
Sole  witli  my  lady,  to  more  lofty  bliss 


PAUAUISE. 


291 


Translated :  for  the  star,  with  wanner  sniile 
Impurpled,  well  (lenoterl  our  ascent.  80 

Witli  all  the  heart,  and  witli  that  tongue  which  sj)eak3 
The  same  in  all,  an  holocaust  I  made 
To  God,  befitting  the  new  grace  vouchsaf  d. 
And  from  my  bosom  had  not  yet  upsteam'd 
The  fuming  of  that  incense,  when  I  knew  85 

The  rite  accepted.     With  such  mighty  slieen 
And  mantling  crimson,  in  two  listed  rays 
The  splendours  shot  before  me,  that  I  cried, 
"  God  of  Sabaoth  !  that  does  i)rank  them  thus  !  " 

As  leads  the  galaxy  from  pole  to  pole,  UU 

Distinguish'd  into  greater  lights  and  less, 
Its  pathway,  which  the  wisest  fail  to  spell ; 
So  thickly  studded,  in  the  depth  of  Mars, 
Those  rays  describ'd  the  venerable  sign. 
That  quadrants  in  the  round  conjoining  frame.  95 

Here  memory  mocks  the  toil  of  genius.     Christ 
Beam'd  on  that  cross ;  and  pattern  fails  me  now. 
But  whoso  takes  his  cross,  and  follows  Christ 
Will  pardon  me  for  that  I  leave  untold, 
When  in  the  flecker'd  dawning  be  sliall  spy  100 

The  glitterance  of  Christ.     From  horn  to  horn, 
And  'tween  the  summit  and  the  base  did  move 
Lights,  scintillating,  as  they  met  and  pass'd. 
Thus  oft  are  seen,  with  ever-changeful  glance, 
Straight  or  athwart,  now  rapid  and  now  slow,  105 

The  atomies  of  bodies,  long  or  short. 
To  move  along  the  sunbeam,  whose  slant  line 
Checkers  the  shadow,  interpos'd  by  art 
Against  the  noontide  heat.     And  as  the  chime 
Of  minstrel  music,  dulcimer,  and  harp  110 

With  many  strings,  a  pleasant  dining  makes 
To  him,  who  heareth  not  distinct  tlie  note  ; 
So  from  the  lights,  whicli  there  appear'd  to  me, 
Gather'd  along  the  cross  a  melody, 

That,  indistinctly  heard,  with  ravishment  115 

Pussess'd  rae.     Yet  I  mark'd  it  was  a  liymn 
Of  lofty  ])raises ;  for  there  came  to  me 
"  Arise  and  conquer,"  as  to  one  wlio  hears 


292  TAIiADISK. 

And  coniprolicnds  not.     Me  sucli  ecstasy 
O'crcnnie,  that  never  till  tliat  liour  was  thing  120 

That  held  me  in  so  sweet  iniprisoninent. 
Ferliaps  my  saying  over  bold  appears, 
Accounting  less  the  ])leasure  of  those  eyes, 
AVliereon  to  look  fullilleth  all  desire. 

But  he,  who  is  aware  those  living  seals  125 

Of  every  beauty  work  with  quicker  force, 
The  higiier  they  are  ris'n  ;  and  that  there 
I  had  not  turn'd  me  to  them  ;  he  may  well 
Excuse  me  that,  Avhereof  in  my  excuse 
I  do  accuse  me,  and  may  own  my  truth ;  130 

That  holy  i)leasure  here  not  yet  reveal'd, 
Which  grows  in  transport  as  we  mount  aloof. 


CANTO  XV. 

True  love,  that  ever  shows  itself  as  clear 

In  kindness,  as  loose  appetite  in  wrong. 

Silenced  that  lyre  harmonious,  and  still'd 

The  sacred  chords,  that  are  by  heav'n's  right  hand 

Unwound  and  tighten'd.     How  to  righteous  prayers       5 

Should  they  not  hearken,  who,  to  give  me  will 

For  praying,  in  accordance  thus  were  mute? 

He  hath  in  sooth  good  cause  for  endless  grief. 

Who,  for  the  love  of  thing  that  lasteth  not. 

Despoils  himself  for  ever  of  that  love.  10 

As  oft  along  the  still  and  pure  serene, 
At  nightfall,  glides  a  sudden  trail  of  fire, 
Attracting  with  involuntary  heed 
The  eye  to  follow  it,  erewhile  at  rest. 
And  seems  some  star  that  shifted  place  in  heav'n,  15 

Only  that,  whence  it  kindles,  none  is  lost. 
And  it  is  soon  extinct ;  thus  from  the  horn, 
That  on  the  dexter  of  the  cross  extends, 
Down  to  its  foot,  one  luminary  ran 

From  mid  the  cluster  shone  there;  yet  no  gem  20 

Drop])'d  from  its  foil ;  and  through  the  beamy  list 
Like  fianie  in  alabaster,  glow'd  its  course. 


PAUADTSB.  2913 

So  forward  strctcliM  liim  (if  of  credenoo  nuglit 
Our  greater  muse  may  claim)  the  pious  ghost 
Of  old  Anchises,  iu  the'  Elysiau  bower,  25 

When  he  perceiv'd  his  son.     "  O  thou,  my  blood! 

0  most  exceeding  grace  divine  !  to  whom. 
As  now  to  thee,  liath  twice  the  heav'nly  gate 
J^een  e'er  unclos'd  ?  "  so  spake  the  light ;  whence  1 
Turn'd  me  toward  him ;  then  unto  my  dame  30 
JMy  sight  directed,  and  on  either  side 

Amazement  waited  me  ;  for  in  her  eyes 

Was  lighted  such  a  smile,  I  thought  that  mine 

Had  div'd  unto  the  bottom  of  my  grace 

And  of  my  bliss  in  Paradise.     Forthwith  35 

To  hearing  and  to  sight  grateful  alike, 

The  spirit  to  his  proem  added  things 

1  understood  not,  so  profound  he  spake  ; 
Yet  not  of  choice  but  through  necessity 

Mysterious ;  for  his  high  conception  scar'd  40 

Beyond  the  mark  of  mortals.     When  the  flight 

Of  holy  transport  had  so  spent  its  rage. 

That  nearer  to  the  level  of  our  thought 

The  speech  descended,  the  first  sounds  I  heard 

Were,  "  Blest  be  thou,  Triunal  Deity  !  45 

That  hast  such  favour  in  my  seed  vouchsaf'd  !  " 

Then  follow'd  :  "  No  unpleasant  thirst,  tho'  long, 

Wliicli  took  me  reading  in  the  sacred  book. 

Whose  leaves  or  Avhite  or  dusky  never  change, 

Thou  hast  allay'd,  my  son,  within  this  light,  50 

From  whence  my  voice  thou  hear'st ;  more  thanks  to  her. 

Who  for  such  lofty  mounting  has  with  plumes 

Begirt  thee.     Thou  dost  deem  thy  thouglits  to  me 

From  Him  transmitted,  Avho  is  first  of  all. 

E'en  as  all  numbers  ray  from  unity ;  55 

And  therefore  dost  not  ask  me  who  I  am, 

Or  why  to  thee  more  joyous  I  appear. 

Than  any  other  in  this  gladsome  throng. 

The  truth  is  as  thou  deem'st ;  for  in  this  life 

Both  less  and  greater  in  that  mirror  look,  60 

In  which  thy  thoughts,  or  ere  thou  think'st,  arc  shown. 

l)ut,  that  the  love,  wliicli  kee|)s  me  w  akcf iil  ever, 


294  PAnADIRE. 

Urging  with  sacred  thirst  of  sweet  desire, 

May  be  conteiuled  fully,  let  thy  voice, 

Fearless,  and  fi-ank  and  jocund,  utter  forth  65 

Thy  will  distinctly,  utter  forth  the  wish, 

"VVhereto  my  ready  answer  stands  decreed." 

I  turn'd  me  to  Beatrice  ;  and  she  heard 
Ere  I  had  sjioken,  smiling  an  assent, 

That  to  my  will  gave  wings  ;  and  I  began  :  70 

"  To  each  among  your  tribe,  what  time  ye  kenn'd 
The  nature,  in  whom  naught  imequal  dwells. 
Wisdom  and  love  were  in  one  measure  dealt ; 
For  that  they  are  so  equal  in  t'le  sun. 
From  whence  ye  drew  your  radiance  and  your  heat,     75 
As  makes  all  likeness  scant.     But  will  and  means, 
In  mortals,  for  the  cause  ye  well  discern. 
With  unlike  wings  are  fledge.     A  mortal  I 
Experience  inequality  like  this. 

And  therefore  give  no  thanks,  but  in  the  heart,  80 

For  thy  paternal  greeting.  This  howe'er 
I  pray  thee,  living  topaz  !  that  ingemm'st 
This  precious  jewel,  let  me  hear  thy  name." 

"  I  am  thy  root,  O  leaf !  whom  to  expect 
Even,  hath  pleas'd  me:"  thus  the  prompt  reply  85 

Prefacing,  next  it  added  ;  "he,  of  whom 
Thy  kindred  appellation  comes,  and  who, 
These  hundred  years  and  more,  on  its  first  ledge 
Hath  circuited  the  mountain,  was  my  son 
And  thy  great  grandsire.     Well  befits,  his  long  90 

Endurance  should  be  shorten'd  by  thy  deeds. 

"  Florence,  within  her  ancient  limit-mark, 
Which  calls  her  still  to  matin  prayers  and  noon, 
Was  chaste  and  sober,  and  abode  in  peace. 
She  had  no  armlets  and  no  head-tires  then,  95 

No  purfled  dames,  no  zone,  that  caught  the  eye 
More  than  the  person  did.     Time  was  not  yet. 
When  at  his  daughter's  birth  the  sire  grew  pale, 
For  fear  the  age  and  dowry  should  exceed 
On  each  side  just  proportion.     House  was  none  100 

Void  of  its  family ;  nor  yet  had  come 
Sardanapalus,  to  exhibit  feats 


PAKAPISE,  295 

Of  clinniher  prowess.     Montoinalo  yet 

O'er  our  suburban  turret  rose;  as  much 

To  be  surpast  in  fall,  as  in  its  rising.  105 

I  saw  Bellincion  Berti  walk  abroad 

In  leathern  girdle  and  a  clasp  of  bone; 

And,  with  no  artful  colouring  on  her  cheeks, 

TTis  lady  leave  tlie  glass.     The  sons  T  saw 

Of  Nerli  and  of  Vecchio  well  content  llU 

With  unrob'd  jerkin  ;  and  their  good  dames  handling 

The  spindle  and  the  flax;  O  happy  they! 

Each  sure  of  burial  in  her  native  land, 

And  none  left  desolate  a-bed  for  France  ! 

One  wak'd  to  tend  the  cradle,  hushing  it  115 

With  sounds  tliat  luU'd  the  parent's  infancy: 

Another,  with  her  maidens,  drawing  off 

The  tresses  from  the  distaff,  lectur'd  them 

Old  tales  of  Troy  and  Fesole  and  Rome. 

A  Salterello  and  Cianghella  we  120 

Had  held  as  strange  a  marvel,  as  ye  would 

A  Cincinnatus  or  Cornelia  now. 

"  In  such  compos'd  and  seemly  fellowship, 
Such  faithful  and  such  fair  equality, 

In  so  sweet  household,  Mary  at  my  birth  125 

BestoAv'd  me,  call'd  on  with  loud  cries  ;  and  there 
In  your  old  baptistery,  I  was  made 
Christian  at  once  and  Cacciaguida ;  as  were 
My  brethren,  Eliseo  and  Moro7ito. 

"  From  Valdipado  came  to  me  my  spouse,  130 

And  hence  thy  surname  grew.     I  follow'd  then 
The  Emperor  Conrad  ;  and  his  knighthood  he 
Did  gird  on  me  ;  in  such  good  part  he  took 
My  valiant  service.     After  him  I  went 
To  testify  against  that  evil  law,  135 

Whose  people,  by  the  shei)herd's  fault,  possess 
Your  right,  usurjjing.     There,  by  that  foul  crew 
Was  I  releas'd  from  the  deceitful  world. 
Whose  base  affection  many  a  spirit  soils, 
And  from  the  martyrdom  came  to  this  peace."  140 


296  PARADTSR. 

CANTO  XVI. 

0  SLiGnr  respect  of  man's  nohility! 

1  never  sliall  accouiiL  it  iiiai-velloiis, 
Tliatour  infirm  affection  liere  below 

Thou  mov'st  to  boastinj^,  Avlien  I  could  not  chuse, 

E'en  in  that  region  of  unwar]>'d  desire,  6 

In  heav'n  itself,  but  make  my  vaunt  in  thee! 

Yet  cloak  thou  art  soon  shorten'd,  for  that  time, 

Unless  thou  be  eked  out  from  day  to  day, 

Goes  round  thee  with  his  shears.     Resuming  tlien 

With  greeting  such,  as  Home,  was  first  to  bear,  10 

But  since  hath  disaccustom'd  I  began  ; 

And  Beatrice,  that  a  little  space 

Was  sever'd,  smil'd  reminding  me  of  her. 

Whose  cough  embolden'd  (as  the  story  holds) 

To  first  offence  the  doubting  Guenever.  15 

"You  are  my  sire,"  said  I,  "  you  give  me  heart 
Freely  to  speak  my  thought :  above  myself 
You  raise  me.     Through  so  many  streams  with  joy 
My  soul  is  fill'd,  that  gladness  wells  from  it ; 
So  that  it  bears  the  miglity  tide,  and  bursts  not.  20 

Say  then,  my  honour'd  stem  !  what  ancestors 
Where  those  you  sprang  from,  and  what  years  were  mai-k'd 
In  your  first  childhood  V     Tell  me  of  the  fold. 
That  hath  Saint  John  for  guardian,  what  was  then 
Its  state,  and  who  in  it  were  highest  seated  ?"  '25 

As  embers,  at  the  breathing  of  the  wind. 
Their  iiame  enliven,  so  that  light  I  saw 
Shine  at  my  blandishments  ;  and,  as  it  grew 
More  fair  to  look  on,  so  with  voice  more  sweet, 
Yet  not  in  this  our  modern  phrase,  forthrvith  30 

It  answer'd  :  "From  the  day,  when  it  was  said 
'  Hail  Virgin  ! '  to  the  throes,  by  which  my  mother, 
Who  now  is  sainted,  lighten'd  her  of  me 
Whom  she  was  heavy  with,  this  tire  had  come, 
Five  huiulred  fifty  times  and  thrice,  its  beams  35 

To  reilumine  underneath  the  foot 
Of  its  own  lion.     They,  of  whom  I  sprang, 
And  I,  had  there  our  birth-])lace,  where  the  last 


J— 


PAKAorsE.  297 

Partition  of  our  city  first  is  reach'd 

By  liiiii,  tliat  runs  lu'r  annual  game.     Thus  much  40 

Suffice  of  my  forefathers  :  who  they  Avere, 

And  whence  they  liitlier  came,  more  honourable 

It  is  to  pass  in'silence  than  to  tell. 

All  those,  who  in  that  time  were  there  from  Mars 

Until  tlie  Baptist,  fit  to  carry  arms,  45 

Were  but  the  fifth  of  them  this  clay  alive. 

But  then  the  citizen's  blood,  that  now  is  mix'd 

From  Campi  and  Certaldo  and  Fighine, 

Ran  purely  through  the  last  mechanic's  veins. 

O  how  much  better  were  it,  that  these  people  50 

Were  neighbours  to  you,  and  that  at  Gallnzzo 

And  at  Trespiano,  ye  should  have  your  bound'ry, 

Than  to  have  them  Avithin,  and  bear  the  stench 

Of  Aguglione's  hiiul,  and  Signa's,  him. 

That  hath  his  eye  already  keen  for  bart'ring  !  55 

Had  not  the  peo})le,  which  of  all  the  world 

Degenerates  most,  been  stepdame  unto  Caisar, 

But,  as  a  mother,  gracious  to  her  son ; 

Such  one,  as  hath  become  a  Florentine, 

And  trades  and  tralRcs,  had  been  turn'd  adrift  GO 

To  Simifonte,  where  liis  grandsire  i)ly'd 

The  beggar's  craft.     The  Conti  were  possess'd 

Of  Montemurlo  still :  the  Cerchi  still 

Were  in  Acoue's  parish  ;  nor  had  haply 

From  Yaldigrieve  past  the  Buondelmonti.  65 

The  city's  malady  hath  ever  source 

In  the  confusion  of  its  jkm-sous,  as 

The  body's,  in  variety  of  food  : 

And  the  blind  bull  falls  with  a  steeper  plunge, 

Than  the  blind  lamb  ;  and  oftentimes  one  sword  70 

Doth  more  and  better  execution. 

Than  five.     Mark  Luni,  Urbisaglia  mark, 

How  they  are  gone,  and  after  them  how  go 

Chiusi  and  Sinigaglia;  and  't  will  seem 

No  longer  new  or  strange  to  thee  to  hear,  75 

Tiiat  families  fail,  Avhen  cities  have  their  end. 

All  things,  that  appertain  t'  ye,  like  yourselves, 

Ai'c  mortal  :  but  mortalitv  in  some 


298  PAR, A  DIRE. 

Ye  mark  not,  tlicy  endure  so  long,  and  you 

]*ass  })y  so  suddenly.     And  as  the  moon  80 

Dotli,  i)y  the  rolling  of  her  heav'nly  sphere, 

Hide  and  reveal  the  strand  unceasingly; 

So  fortune  deals  with  Floi-ence.     Hence  admire  not 

At  what  of  them  I  tell  thee,  whose  renow^i 

Time  covers,  the  first  Florentines.     I  saw  85 

The  Ughi,  Catilini  and  Filippi, 

The  Alberichi,  Greci  and  Ormanni, 

Now  in  their  wane,  illustrious  citizens  : 

And  great  as  ancient,  of  Sannella  him, 

With  him  of  Area  saw,  and  Soldanieri  90 

And  Ardinghi'  and  Bostichi.     At  the  poop, 

That  now^  is  laden  with  new  felony. 

So  cumb'rous  it  may  speedily  sink  the  bark, 

The  Ravignani  sat,  of  whom  is  sprung 

The  County  Guido,  and  whoso  hath  since  95 

His  title  from  the  fam'd  Bellincion  ta'en. 

Fair  governance  was  yet  an  art  well  priz'd 

By  him  of  Pressa  :  Galigaio  show'd 

The  gilded  hilt  and  pommel,  in  his  house. 

The  column,  cloth'd  with  verrey,  still  was  seen  100 

Unshaken  :  the  Sacchetti  still  were  great, 

Giouchi,  Sifanti,  Galli  and  Barucci, 

With  them  who  blush  to  hear  the  bushel  nam'd. 

Of  the  Calfucci  still  the  branchy  trunk 

Was  in  its  strength  :  and  to  the  curule  chairs  105 

Sizii  and  Arigucci  yet  were  drawn. 

How  mighty  them  I  saw,  whom  since  their  pride 

Hath  undone  !  and  in  all  her  goodly  deeds 

Florence  was  by  the  bullets  of  bright  gold 

O'erflourish'd.     Such  the  sires  of  those,  who  now,        110 

As  surely  as  your  church  is  vacant,  flock 

Into  her  consistory,  and  at  leisure 

There  stall  them  and  grow  fat.     The  o'erweening  brood. 

That  plays  the  dragon  after  him  that  flees, 

But  unto  such,  as  turn  and  show  the  tooth,  115 

Ay  or  the  purse,  is  gentle  as  a  lamb. 

Was  on  its  rise,  but  yet  so  slight  esteem'd, 

That  Ubertino  of  Donati  cjrud£;'d 


PAKADISK-  299 

ITis  fntlicr-in-law  should  yoke  him  to  its  tribe. 

Already  Caponsaeco  had  descended  120 

Into  the  mart  from  Fesole  :  and  Giuda 

An<l  Infangato  were  good  citizens, 

A  tiling  incredible  I  tell,  tho'  true  : 

The  gateway,  named  from  those  of  Pera,  led 

Into  the  narrow  circuit  of  your  walls.  125 

Each  one,  who  bears  the  sightly  quarterings 

Of  the  great  Uaron  (he  whose  name  and  worth 

The  festival  of  Thomas  still  revives) 

His  knighthood  and  his  privilege  retain'd  ; 

Albeit  one,  who  borders  them  with  gold,  130 

This  day  is  mingled  with  the  common  herd. 

In  Borgo  yet  the  Gualterotti  dwelt. 

And  Importuni :  Avell  for  its  repose 

Plad  it  still  lack'd  of  newer  neighbourhood. 

The  house,  from  whence  your  tears  have  had  their  spring, 

Through  the  jiist  anger  that  hath  murder'd  ye  136 

And  put  a  period  to  your  gladsome  days, 

Was  honour'd,  it,  and  those  consorted  with  it. 

O  Buondelmonti  !  what  ill  counseling 

Prevail'd  on  thee  to  break  the  plighted  bond  ?  140 

Many,  who  now  are  weejnng,  would  rejoice, 

Had  God  to  Ema  giv'n  thee,  the  first  time 

Thou  near  our  city  cam'st.     But  so  was  doom'd  : 

On  that  maim'd  stone  set  up  to  guard  the  bridge. 

At  thy  last  peace,  the  victim,  Florence  !  fell.  145 

With  these  and  others  like  to  them,  I  saw 

Florence  in  such  assur'd  tranquillity. 

She  had  no  cause  at  which  to  grieve  :  with  these 

Saw  her  so  glorious  and  so  just,  that  ne'er 

The  lily  from  the  lance  had  hung  reverse,  150 

Or  through  division  been  with  vermeil  dyed." 


CANTO  XVII. 

Such  as  the  youth,  wlio  came  to  Clymene 

To  certify  himself  of  that  re])roach. 

Which  had  been  fasten'd  on  him,  (he  whose  end 


300  PARAmSR. 

Still  makes  the  fatliors  cliavy  to  their  sons, 

E'cii  such  was  I  ;  nor  luujbserv'd  was  such  6 

Of  l>eatriee,  and  that  saintly  lam]), 

Who  had  erewhile  for  me  his  station  mov'd  ; 

When  thus  by  lady:  "  Give  thy  wish  free  vent, 

That  it  may  issue,  bearing  true  report 

Of  the  mind's  im])i'ess  ;  not  that  aught  thy  words  10 

May  to  our  knowledge  add,  but  to  the  end, 

That  thou  mayst  use  thyself  to  own  thy  thirst 

And  men  may  mingle  for  thee  when  they  hear." 

"  O  plant !  from  whence  I  spiing!  rever'd  and  lov'd  ! 
Who  soar'st  so  high  a  pitch,  thou  seest  as  clear,  15 

As  earthly  thought  determines  two  obtuse 
In  one  triangle  not  contain'd,  so  clear 
Dost  see  contingencies,  ere  in  themselves 
P]xistent,  looking  at  the  point  whereto 
All  times  are  ]»resent,  I,  the  whilst  I  scal'd  20 

With  Virgil  the  soul-purifying  mount, 
And  visited  the  nether  world  of  svoe, 
Touching  my  future  destiny  have  heard 
Words  grievous,  though  I  feel  me  on  all  sides 
Well  squar'd  to  fortune's  blows.     Therefore  my  will      25 
Were  satisfied  to  know  the  lot  awaits  me, 
The  arrow,  seen  beforehand,  slacks  its  flight." 

So  said  I  to  the  brightness,  which  erewhile 
To  me  had  spoken,  and  my  Avill  declar'd. 
As  Beatrice  will'd,  exjdicitly.  30 

Nor  with  oracular  res])onse  obscure, 
Such,  as  or  ere  the  Lamb  of  God  was  slain, 
Beguil'd  the  credulous  nations  ;  but,  in  terms 
Precise  and  unambiguous  lore,  replied 
The  spirit  of  ])aternal  love,  enshrin'd,  35 

Yet  in  his  smile  apparent ;  and  thus  spake  : 
"  Contingency,  unfolded  not  to  view 
TJ|>on  the  tablet  of  your  mortal  mold. 
Is  all  depictur'd  in  the'  eternal  sight; 
laut  hence  deriveth  not  necessity,  40 

More  tlien  the  tall  ship,  hurried  down  the  flood, 
Doth  from  the  vision,  that  reflects  the  scene. 
From  thence,  as  to  the  ear  sweet  harmony 


TAIiADISK.  301 

From  organ  conies,  so  comes  before  mine  eye 

The  time  prepar'd  for  thee.     Such  as  driv'n  out  15 

From  Atliens,  l)y  his  cruel  stejuhime's  wiles, 

Hippolytus  de))arted,  such  must  thou 

Depart  from  Florence.     This  they  wish,  and  this 

Contrive,  and  will  ere  long  effectuate,  there, 

Where  gainful  merchandize  is  made  of  Christ,  50 

Throughout  the  livelong  day.     The  common  cry, 

Will,  as  't  is  ever  wont,  affix  the  blame 

Unto  the  party  injur'd  :  but  the  truth 

Shall,  in  the  vengeance  it  dispenseth,  find 

A  faithful  witness.     Thou  shall  leave  eacli  thing  55 

Belov'd  most  dearly  :  this  is  the  first  shaft 

Shot  from  the  bow  of  exile.     Thou  shalt  prove 

How  salt  the  savour  is  of  other's  bread, 

How  hard  the  passage  to  descend  and  climb 

By  othei-'s  staii-s.     But  that  shall  gall  thee  most  60 

Will  be  the  worthless  and  vile  coni])any. 

With  whom  thou  must  be  thrown  into  these  straits. 

For  all  ungrateful,  impious  all  and  mad. 

Shall  turn  'gainst  thee:  but  in  a  little  while 

Theirs  and  not  thine  shall  be  the  crimson'd  brow.  G5 

Their  course  shall  so  evince  their  brutishness 

T'  have  ta'en  thy  stand  apart  shall  well  become  thee. 

"  First  refuge  thou  must  find,  first  placie  of  rest, 
In  the  great  Lombard's  courtesy,  who  bears 
Upon  the  ladder  perch'd  tlie  sacred  bird.  70 

He  shall  behold  thee  wath  such  kind  regard, 
That  'twixt  ye  two,  the  contrary  to  that 
Which  falls  'twixt  other  men,  the  granting  shall 
Forerun  the  asking.     With  him  shalt  thou  see 
That  mortal,  who  was  at  his  birth  impi-est  75 

So  strongly  from  this  star,  that  of  his  deeds 
The  nations  shall  take  note.     His  unripe  age 
Yet  holds  him  from  observance  ;  for  these  wheels 
Only  nine  years  have  compast  him  about. 
But,  ere  the  Gascon  practice  on  great  Hai-iy,  80 

Si)arkles  of  virtue  shall  shoot  forth  in  him, 
In  equal  scorn  of  labours  and  of  gold. 
His  bounty  shall  be  spread  abroad  so  widely, 


I- 


il02  PARADISE, 

As  not  to  let  the  tongues  e'en  of  bis  foes 

Be  idle  in  its  ])raise.     Look  tlion  to  him  86 

And  liis  benclicence  :  for  he  sliall  cause 

Reversal  of  their  lot  to  many  peoj^le, 

Rich  men  and  beggars  interchanging  fortunes. 

And  tliou  shalt  bear  this  written  in  thy  soul 

Of  him,  but  tell  it  not ;  "  and  things  he  told  90 

Incredible  to  those  Avho  Avitness  them  ; 

Tlien  added  :  "  So  interpret  thou,  my  son, 

What  hath  been  told  thee. — Lo !  the  ambushment 

Tliat  a  few  circling  seasons  hide  for  tliee  ! 

Yet  envy  not  thy  neighbours  :  time  extends  95 

Thy  span  beyond  their  treason's  chastisement." 

Soon,  as  the  saintly  spirit,  by  his  silence, 
Had  shown  the  web,  which  I  had  stretch'd  for  him 
Upon  the  warp,  was  woven,  I  began, 
As  one,  who  in  perplexity  desires  100 

Counsel  of  other,  wise,  benign  and  friendly  : 
"My  father!  well  I  mark  how  time  spurs  on 
Toward  me,  ready  to  inflict  the  blow. 
Which  falls  most  heavily  on  him,  who  most 
Abandoneth  himself.     Therefore  't  is  good  105 

I  should  forecast,  that  dri\en  from  the  place 
Most  dear  to  me,  I  may  not  lose  myself 
All  others  by  my  song.     Down  through  the  world 
Of  infinite  mourning,  and  along  the  mount 
From  whose  fair  height  my  lady's  eyes  did  lift  me,      110 
And  after  through  this  heav'n  from  light  to  light, 
Have  I  learnt  tliat,  which  if  I  tell  again, 
It  may  with  many  "wofully  disrelish ; 
And,  if  I  am  a  timid  friend  to  truth, 

I  fear  my  life  may  pei'ish  among  those,  115 

To  whom  these  days  shall  be  of  ancient  date." 

The  brightness,  whci'e  enclos'd  the  treasure  sinil'd, 
Which  I  had  found  there,  first  shone  glisteringly, 
Like  to  a  golden  mirroi-  in  the  sun  ; 

Next  answer'd  :  "  Conscience,  dimm'd  or  by  its  own  120 
Or  other's  shame,  will  feel  thy  saying  sharj). 
Thou,  notwithstanding,  all  deceit  remov'd, 
See  the  whole  vision  be  made  manifest. 


PARADISK.  803 

And  let  tliom  Avince  who  have  their  withers  wrung. 

"What  tliough,  when  tasted  first,  tliy  voice  shall  prove  1*25 

Unwelcome,  on  digestion  it  will  turn 

To  vital  nourishment.     Tiie  cry  tliou  raisest, 

Shall,  as  the  wind  doth,  smite  the  proudest  summits  ; 

Which  is  of  honour  no  light  argument. 

For  this  there  only  have  been  shown  to  thee,  1.30 

Throughout  these  orbs,  the  mountain,  and  the  deep, 

Spirits,  whom  fame  hath  note  of.     For  the  mind 

Of  him,  who  hears,  is  loth  to  acquiesce 

And  fix  its  faith,  unless  the  instance  brought 

Be  palpable,  and  proof  apparent  urge."  135 


CANTO  XVIII. 

Now  in  his  word,  sole,  ruminating,  joy'd 

That  blessed  spirit ;  and  I  fed  on  mine, 

Temp'ring  the  sweet  witli  bitter  :  she  meanwhile, 

Who  led  me  unto  God,  admonish'd  :  "  Muse 

On  other  thoughts:  bethink  thee,  that  near  Him  5 

I  dwell,  who  recompenseth  every  wrong." 

At  the  sweet  sounds  of  comfort  straight  I  turn'd  ; 
And,  in  the  saintly  eyes  what  love  was  seen, 
I  leave  in  silence  here  :  nor  through  distrust 
Of  ray  words  only,  but  that  to  such  bliss  10 

The  mind  remounts  not  without  aid.     Thus  much 
Yet  may  I  speak  ;  that,  as  I  gaz'd  on  her, 
Affection  found  no  room  for  other  wish. 
While  the'  everlasting  ])leasure,  that  did  full 
On  Beatrice  shine,  with  second  view  15 

From  her  fair  countenance  my  gladden'd  soul 
Contented  ;  vanquishing  me  with  a  beam 
Of  her  soft  smile,  she  spake :  "  Turn  thee,  and  list. 
These  eyes  are  not  thy  only  Paradise." 

As  here  we  sometimes  in  the,  looks  may  see  20 

Th'  affection  mark'd,  when  that  its  sway  hath  ta'en 
The  spirit  wholly ;  tlius  the  hallow'd  light. 
To  whom  I  turriM,  flashing,  bewi-ay'd  its  will 
To  talk  yet  further  with  me,  and  began  : 


304  PAKADISE. 

"  On  this  fiftli  lodgmenl  of  the  tree,  wliose  life  25 

Is  from  its  toji,  wliose  fruit  is  ever  fair 

And  leaf  unwitli'ring,  blessed  S])irits  abide, 

That  were  below,  ere  they  arriv'd  in  heav'n, 

So  mighty  in  renown,  as  every  muse 

Might  grace  her  triumph  with  them.     On  the  liorns       oO 

Look  therefore  of  the  cross  :  he,  Avhom  I  name, 

Shall  there  enact,  as  doth  in  summer  cloud 

Its  nimble  fire."     Along  the  cross  I  saw, 

At  the  repeated  name  of  Joshua, 

A  s]ilendour  gliding ;  nor,  the  word  was  said,  35 

Ere  it  was  done  :  then,  at  the  naming  saw 

Of  the  great  Maccabee,  another  move 

With  whirling  speed ;  and  gladness  w\as  the  scourge 

Unto  that  top.     The  next  for  Charlemagne 

And  for  the  peer  Orlando,  two  my  gaze  40 

Pursued,  intently,  as  the  eye  pui'sues 

A  falcon  flying.     Last,  along  the  cross, 

William,  and  Renard,  and  Duke  Godfrey  drew 

My  ken,  and  Robert  Guiscard.     And  the  soul, 

Who  spake  with  me  among  the  other  lights  45 

Did  move  away,  and  mix  ;  and  with  the  choir 

Of  heav'niy  songsters  prov'd  his  tuneful  skill. 

To  Beatrice  on  my  right  I  bent. 
Looking  for  intimation  or  by  word 

Or  act,  what  next  behov'd ;  and  did  descry  50 

Such  mere  effulgence  in  her  eyes,  such  joy, 
It  past  all  former  wont.     And,  as  by  sense 
Of  new  delight,  the  man,  who  pei-severes 
In  good  deeds  doth  perceive  from  day  to  day 
His  virtue  growing ;  I  e'en  thus  perceiv'd  55 

Of  my  ascent,  together  with  the  heav'n 
The  circuit  widen'd,  noting  the  increase 
Of  beauty  in  that  wonder.     Like  the  change 
In  a  brief  moment  on  some  maiden's  cheek. 
Which  from  its  fairness  doth  discharge  the  weight         60 
Of  pudency,  that  stain'd  it ;  such  in  her. 
And  to  mine  eyes  so  sudden  was  the  change. 
Through  silvery  whiteness  of  that  tem])erate  star, 
Whose  sixth  orb  now  enfolded  us.     I  saw. 


„L 


PAllADISE. 


305 


Witliin  tlial  Jovial  cresset,  tlie  clear  sparks  65 

Of  love,  that  reiii'n'd  there,  fashion  to  my  view 
Our  language.     And  as  birds,  from  river  bank? 
-Arisen,  now  in  round,  now  Icngthen'd  troop. 
Array  them  in  their  flight,  greeting,  as  seems. 
Their  new-fonnd  pastures  ;  so,  within  the  lights,  70 

The  saintly  creatures  flying,  sang,  and  made 
Now  D.  now  I.  now  L.  figur'd  i'  th'  air. 
First,  singing,  to  their  notes  they  mov'd,  then  one 
Becoming  of  these  signs,  a  little  while 
Did  rest  them,  and  were  mute.     O  nymph  divine  75 

Of  Pegasean  race  !  whose  souls,  which  thou 
Tns])ir\st,  mak'st  glorious  and  long-liv'd,  as  they 
C'ities  and  realms  by  thee  !  thou  with  thyself 
Inform  me  ;  that  I  may  set  forth  the  shapes, 
As  fancy  doth  present  them.     Be  thy  power  80 

I)is]^lay\l  in  this  brief  song.     The  characters, 
Vocal  and  consonant,  were  five-fold  seven. 
In  order  each,  as  they  ap])ear'd,  I  mark'd. 
Diligite  Justitiam,  the  first, 

Both  verb  and  noun  all  blazon'd  ;  and  the'  extreme       85 
Qui  judicatis  terram.     In  the  M. 
Of  the  fifth  word  they  held  their  station, 
]V[aking  the  star  seem  silver  streak'd  with  gold. 
And  on  the  siimmit  of  the  M.  I  saw 

Descending  other  lights,  that  rested  there,  90 

Singing,  methinks,  their  bliss  and  ])rimal  good. 
Then,  as  at  shaking  of  a  lighted  brand, 
Sparkles  innumerable  on  all  sides 
Rise  scattcr'd,  source  of  augury  to  th'  \inwise  ; 
Thus  more  than  thousand  twinkling  lustres  hence  05 

Seem'd  reascending,  and  a  higher  ])itch 
Some  mounting,  and  some  less;  e'en  as  the  sun. 
Which  kindleth  them,  decreed.     And  when  each  oi   > 
Had  settled  in  his  i)lace,  the  head  and  neck 
Then  saw  I  of  an  eagle,  livelily  ^OO 

Grav'd  in  that  streaky  fire.     AVho  ])ainteth  there, 
Hath  none  to  guide  him  ;  of  himself  he  guides; 
And  every  line  and  texture  of  the  nest 
Doth  own  from  him  the  virtue,  fashions  it. 

20 


306  PARADISE. 

Tlie  oilier  briGjht  beatitude,  that  seemM  105 

Erewliile,  with  lilieil  crowning,  well  content 
To  over-canopy  the  M.  mov'd  forth. 
Following  gently  the  impress  of  the  bird. 

Sweet  star  !  what  glorious  and  thick-studded  gems 
Declar'd  to  me  our  justice  on  the  earth  110 

To  be  the  effluence  of  that  heav'n,  which  thou, 
Thyself  a  costly  jewel,  dost  inlay  ! 
Therefore  I  i>ray  the  Sovran  Mind,  from  whom 
Thy  motion  and  thy  virtue  are  begun. 
That  he  would  look  from  whence  the  fog  doth  rise,      115 
To  vitiate  thy  beam :  so  that  once  more 
He  may  ])ut  forth  his  hand  'gainst  such,  as  drive 
Their  traffic  in  that  sanctuary,  Avhose  walls 
With  miracles  and  martyrdoms  were  built. 

Ye  host  of  heaven  !  whose  glory  I  survey  !  120 

0  beg  ye  grace  for  those,  that  are  on  earth 
All  after  ill  example  gone  astray. 

War  once  had  for  its  instrument  the  sword : 

But  now  't  is  made,  taking  the  bread  away 

Which  the  good  Father  locks  from  none. — And  thou,  125 

That  writes  but  to  cancel,  think,  that  they, 

Who  for  the  vineyai'd,  which  thou  wastest,  died, 

Peter  and  Paul  live  yet,  and  mark  thy  doings. 

Thou  hast  good  cause  to  cry,  "  My  heart  so  cleaves 

To  him,  that  liv'd  in  solitude  remote,  130 

And  from  the  wilds  was  dragg'd  to  martyrdom, 

1  wist  not  of  the  fisherman  nor  Paul." 


CANTO  XIX. 

Before  my  sight  appear'd,  with  open  wings, 
The  beauteous  image,  in  fruition  sweet 
Gladdening  the  thronged  spirits.     Each  did  seem 
A  little  ruby,  whereon  so  intense 
The  sun-beam  glow'd  that  to  mine  eyes  it  came 
In  clear  refraction.     And  that,  which  next 
Befalls  me  to  portray,  voice  hath  not  utter'd, 
Nor  hatli  ink  written,  nor  in  fantasy 


PARADISE.  307 

Was  e'er  conceiv'd.     For  I  beheld  and  heard 

The  beak  discourse  ;  and,  wliat  intention  forni'd  10 

Of  many,  singly  as  of  one  express, 

Beginning:  "  For  that  I  was  just  and  piteous, 

I  am  exalted  to  this  height  of  glory. 

The  which  no  wish  exceeds :  and  there  on  earth 

Have  I  my  memory  left,  e'en  by  the  bad  15 

Commended,  while  they  leave  its  course  untrod." 

Thus  is  one  heat  from  many  embers  felt, 
As  in  that  image  many  were  the  loves, 
And  one  the  voice,  that  issued  from  them  all. 
Whence  I  addrest  them  :  "  O  perennial  flowers  20 

Of  gladness  everlasting  !  that  exhale 
In  single  breath  your  odours  manifold! 
Breathe  now  ;  and  let  the  hunger  be  appeas'd, 
That  with  great  craving  long  hath  held  my  soul, 
Finding  no  food  on  earth.     This  well  I  know,  25 

That  if  there  be  in  hcav'n  a  realm,  that  shows 
In  faithful  mirror  the  celestial  Justice, 
Yours  without  veil  reflects  it.     Ye  discern 
The  heed,  wherewith  I  do  prepare  myself 
To  hearken  ;  ye  the  doubt,  that  iirges  me  30 

With  such  inveterate  craving."     Straight  I  saw, 
Like  to  a  falcon  issuing  from  the  hood. 
That  rears  his  head,  and  claps  him  with  his  Avings, 
His  beauty  and  his  eagerness  bewraying. 
So  saw  I  move  that  stately  sign,  with  praise  85 

Of  grace  divine  inwoven  and  high  song 
Of  inexpressive  joy.     "  He,"  it  began, 

I       "  Who  turn'd  his  compass  on  the  world's  extreme, 

I       And  in  that  space  so  variously  hath  wrought, 

Both  oj»enly'  and  in  secret,  in  such  wise  40 

I       Could  not  through  all  the  universe  disjflay 

I       Imj^ression  of  his  glory,  that  the  Word 

I       Of  his  omniscience  should  not  still  remain 

I       In  infinite  excess.     In  proof  whereof, 

I       He  first  through  pride  supplanted,  who  was  sum  45 

\       Of  each  created  being,  waited  not 

I       For  light  celestial,  and  abortive  fell. 

I       Whence  needs  each  lesser  nature  is  but  scant 


4- 


308  PARADISE. 

Roc(>]Uaele  unto  that  Good,  whicli  knows 

No  limit,  nieasnr'd  by  itself  .alone.  50 

Therefore  your  sight,  of  th'  omnipi-esent  Mind 

A  single  beam,  its  origin  must  own 

Surj)assing  far  its  utmost  potency. 

The  ken,  your  world  is  gifted  with,  descends 

In  th'  everlasting  Justice  as  low  down,  55 

As  eye  doth  in  the  sea  ;  which  though  it  mark 

The  bottom  from  the  shore,  in  the  wide  main 

Discerns  it  not ;  and  ne'ertheless  it  is. 

But  hidden  through  its  deepness.     Light  is  none, 

Save  that  which  coineth  from  the  pure  serene  60 

Of  ne'er  disturbed  ether  :  for  the  rest, 

'Tis  darkness  all,  or  shadow  of  the  flesh, 

Or  else  its  poison.     Here  confess  reveal'd 

That  covert,  which  hath  hidden  from  thy  search 

The  living  justice,  of  the  Avhich  thou  mad'st  65 

Such  frequent  question  ;  for  thou  saidst — 'A  man 

Is  born  on  Indus'  banks,  and  none  is  iheri 

Who  8]jeaks  of  Chi-ist,  nor  who  doth  read  nor  write, 

And  all  his  inclinations  and  his  acts, 

As  far  as  human  reason  sees,  are  good,  70 

And  he  offendeth  not  in  word  or  deed. 

But  unbaptiz'd  he  dies,  and  void  of  faith. 

Where  is  the  justice  that  condemns  him?  where 

His  blame,  if  he  believeth  not?' — What  then, 

And  wlio  art  thou,  that  on  the  stool  wouldst  sit  75 

To  judge  at  distance  of  a  thousand  miles 

With  the  short-sighted  vision  of  a  span  ? 

To  him,  "who  subtilizes  thus  with  me. 

There  would  assuredly  be  room  for  doubt 

Even  to  wonder,  did  not  the  safe  word  80 

Of  scripture  liold  supreme  authority. 

"  O  animals  of  clay  !     O  sjnrits  gross  I 
The  prinial  will,  that  in  itself  is  good. 
Hath  from  itself,  the  chief  Good,  ne'er  been  mov'd. 
Justice  consists  in  consonance  with  it,  85 

Derivable  by  no  created  good. 
Whose  very  cause  depends  uj^on  its  beam." 

As  on  her  uest  the  stork,  that  turns  about 


PARAT)TST5.  309 

tlnto  her  yonncf,  whom  lately  she  hath  fed, 

While  they  with  uj)\var(l  eyes  do  look  on  her;  90 

So  lifted  I  my  gaze  ;  and  bending  so 

The  ever-blessed  image  wav'd  its  wings, 

Lab'ring  with  such  deep  counsel.     Wheeling  round 

It  warbled,  and  did  say  :  "  As  are  my  notes 

To  thee,  who  understand'st  them  not,  such  is  95 

Th'  eternal  judgment  unto  mortal  ken." 

Then  still  abiding  in  that  ensign  rang'd, 
Wherewith  the  Romans  over-awed  the  world, 
Those  burning  splendours  of  the  Holy  Spirit 
Took  up  the  strain  ;  and  thus  it  spake  again  :  100 

"  None  ever  hath  ascended  to  this  realm. 
Who  hath  not  a  believer  been  in  Christ, 
Either  before  or  after  the  blest  limbs 
Were  nail'd  upon  the  wood.     But  lo  !  of  those 
Who  call '  Christ,  Christ,'  there  shall  be  many  found,    105 
In  judgment,  further  off  from  him  by  far. 
Than  such,  to  whom  his  name  was  never  known. 
Christians  like  these  the  Ethiop  shall  condemn : 
When  that  the  two  assemblages  shall  part ; 
One  rich  eternally,  the  other  poor.  110 

"  What  may  the  Persians  say  unto  your  kings, 
When  they  shall  see  that  volume,  in  the  which 
All  their  dispraise  is  written,  spread  to  view? 
There  amidst  Albert's  works  shall  that  be  read, 
Which  will  give  speedy  motion  to  the  pen,  115 

When  Prague  shall  mourn  her  desolated  realm. 
There  shall  be  read  the  woe,  that  he  doth  work 
With  his  adulterate  money  on  the  Seine, 
Who  by  the  tusk  Avill  perish  :  there  be  read 
The  thirsting  pride,  that  maketh  fool  alike  120 

The'  English  and  Scot,  impatient  of  their  bound. 
There  shall  be  seen  the  Spaniard's  luxury, 
The  delicate  living  there  of  the  Bohemian, 
Who  still  to  Avorth  has  been  a  willing  stranger. 
The  halter  of  Jerusalem  shall  see  125 

A  unit  for  his  virtue,  for  his  vices 
No  less  a  mark  than  million.     He,  who  guards 
The  isle  of  fire  by  old  Anchises  honour'd 


310  rARABTSE. 

Bliall  finfl  his  nvarico  tliore  and  cowardice; 

And  bettor  to  denote  liis  littleness,  130 

The  writing  must  be  letters  maini'd,  that  speak 

Much  in  a  narrow  space.     All  thei-e  shall  know 

Ilis  uncle  and  his  brother's  filthy  doings, 

Who  so  renown'd  a  nation  and  two  crowns 

Have  bastavdiz'd.     And  they,  of  Portugal  135 

And  Norway,  there  shall  be  expos'd  with  him 

Of  llatza,  who  hath  counterfeited  ill 

The  coin  of  Venice.     O  blest  Hungary ! 

If  thou  no  longer  patiently  abid'st 

Thy  ill-entreating  !  and,  O  blest  Navarre  !  140 

If  with  thy  mountainous  girdle  thou  wouldst  arm  thee  ' 

In  earnest  of  that  day,  e'en  now  are  heard 

Wailings  and  groans  in  Famagosta's  streets 

And  Nicosia's,  grudging  at  their  beast, 

Who  keepeth  even  footing  with  the  rest."  145 

CANTO  XX. 

When,  disappearing  from  our  hemisphere, 

The  world's  enlightener  vanishes,  and  day 

On  all  sides  wasteth,  suddenly  the  sky, 

Erewhile  irradiate  only  with  his  beam. 

Is  yet  iigain  unfolded,  putting  forth  6 

Innumerable  lights  wherein  one  shines. 

Of  such  vicissitude  in  heaven  I  thought, 

As  the  great  sign,  that  marshaleth  the  world 

And  the  world's  leaders,  in  the  blessed  beak 

Was  silent ;  for  that  all  those  living  lights,  10 

Waxing  in  splendour,  burst  forth  into  songs, 

Such  as  from  memory  glide  and  fall  away. 

Sweet  love  !  that  dost  apparel  thee  in  smiles, 
How  lustrous  was  thy  semblance  in  those  sparkles. 
Which  merely  are  from  holy  thouglits  inspir'd !  15 

After  the  ])recious  and  bright  beaming  stones. 
That  did  ingem  the  sixth  light,  ceas'd  the  chiming 
Of  their  angelic  bells ;  methought  I  heard. 
The  murmuring  of  a  river,  that  doth  fall 
P^rom  rock  to  rock  transpicuous,  making  known  20 


' 


^^^" 


PAKAPISE.  311 

Tlio  riclmoss  of  his  spring-lioad  :  nnrl  as  sound 

Of  cittern,  at  tlie  fret-board,  or  of  pii)e, 

Is,  at  the  wind-liole,  modulate  and  tun'd  ; 

Tims  up  the  neck,  as  it  were  hollow,  rose 

That  murmuring  of  the  eacle,  and  forth^vith  25       1 

Voice  there  assum'd,  and  thence  along  the  beak 

Issued  in  form  of  Avords,  such  as  my  heart 

Did  look  for,  on  whose  tables  I  inscrib'd  them. 

"  The  part  in  me,  that  sees,  and  bears  the  sun, 
In  mortal  eagles,"  it  began,  "must  now  30 

Be  noted  steadfastly :  for  of  the  fires, 
That  figure  me,  those,  glittering  in  mine  eye, 
Are  chief  of  all  the  greatest.     This,  that  shines 
Midmost  for  ])upil,  was  the  same,  who  sang 
The  Holy  Spirit's  song,  and  bare  about  35 

The  ark  from  town  to  town ;  now  doth  he  kno\r 
The  merit  of  his  soul-impassion'd  strains 
By  their  well-fitted  guerdon.     Of  the  five, 
That  make  the  circle  of  the  vision,  he 
Who  to  the  beak  is  nearest,  comforted  40 

The  widow  for  her  son  :  now  doth  he  know 
How  dear  he  costeth  not  to  follow  Christ, 
Both  from  experience  of  this  pleasant  life. 
And  of  its  opposite.     He  next,  who  follows 
In  the  circumference,  for  the  over  arch,  45 

By  true  repenting  slack'd  the  pace  of  death : 
Now  knoweth  he,  that  the  decrees  of  heav'n 
Alter  not,  when  through  pious  prayer  below 
To-day's  is  made  to-morroAv's  destiny. 
The  other  following,  with  the  laws  and  me,  50 

To  yield  the  shephei'd  room,  pass'd  o'er  to  Greece, 
From  good  intent  producing  evil  fruit : 
Now  knoweth  he,  how  all  the  ill,  deriv'd 
From  his  well  doing,  doth  not  harm  him  aught, 
Though  it  have  brought  destruction  on  the  world.  55 

That,  M'hich  thou  seest  in  the  under  bow, 
Was  William,  whom  that  land  bewails,  which  weeps 
For  Charles  and  Frederick  living :  now  he  knows 
How  well  is  lov'd  in  heav'n  the  righteous  king, 
Which  he  betokens  by  his  radiant  seeming.  60 


■Jl2  PARADISK. 

Who  in  (lio  orriiiGf  world  boncttli  would  dcom, 

That  Trojan  1M|)1kmis  in  this  i-oiuid  was  set 

I'^iflh  of  tiie  saintly  splendours  V  now  he  knows 

Knoug-h  of  that,  wliich  the  woi'ld  cannot  see, 

The  grace  divine,  alljeit  e'en  his  sight  65 

1  leach  not  its  utmost  dej)th."     Like  to  the  lark, 

That  warbling  in  the  air  ex])atiates  long, 

'I'lien,  trilling  out  his  last  sweet  melody, 

]J)ro))s  satiate  with  the  sweetness  ;  such  appoar'd 

That  image  stami»t  by  the'  everlasting  pleasure,  70 

Which  fashions  like  itself  all  lovely  tilings. 

I,  though  my  doul)ting  were  as  manifest, 
As  is  through  glass  the  hue  that  mantles  it, 
In  silence  waited  not :  for  to  my  lips 
"What  things  are  these?"  involuntary  rushM,  75 

And  forc'd  a  passage  out:  whereat  I  niark'd 
A  sudden  lightening  and  new  revelry. 
The  eye  was  kiudled  :  and  i\\e  l)lessed  sign 
No  more  to  keep  me  wond'ring  and  suspense, 
Keplied  :  "  I  see  that  thou  believ'st  these  things,  80 

Because  I  tell  them,  but  discern'st  not  how  ; 
So  that  thy  knowledge  waits  not  on  thy  faith: 
As  one  who  knows  the  name  of  thing  by  rote. 
But  is  a  stranger  to  its  properties, 

Till  other's  tongue  reveal  them.     Fervent  love  85 

And  lively  hope  with  violence  assail 
The  kingdom  of  the  heavens,  and  overcome 
The  will  of  the  Most  High  ;  not  in  such  sort 
As  man  prevails  o'er  man  ;  but  conquers  it, 
Because  't  is  willing  to  be  conquer'd,  still,  90 

Though  conquer'd,  by  its  mercy  conquering. 

"  Those,  in  the  eye  who  live  the  first  and  fifth, 
Cause  thee  to  marvel,  in  that  thou  behold'st 
The  region  of  the  angels  deck'd  with  them. 
They  quitted  not  their  bodies,  as  thou  deem'st,  95 

Gentiles  but  Christians,  in  firm  rooted  faith, 
This  of  the  feet  in  future  to  be  pierc'd. 
That  of  feet  nail'd  already  to  the  cross. 
One  from  the  barrier  of  the  dark  abyss. 
Where  never  any  with  good  will  returns,  100 


PAKAPTSE.  31 B 

Came  back  unto  his  bones.     Of  lively  hope 

Such  was  the  meed  ;  of  lively  hope,  that  wing'd 

The  prayers  sent  up  to  God  for  his  release, 

And  ])Ut  ])Ower  into  them  to  bend  his  will. 

The  i^dorious  S])irit,  of  whom  I  s]>eak  to  thee,  105 

A  little  while  returning  to  the  tlesh, 

Believ'd  in  liim,  who  had  the  means  to  help, 

And,  in  believing,  nourish'd  such  a  flame 

Of  holy  love,  that  at  the  second  death 

He  was  made  sharer  in  our  gamesome  mirth.  110 

The  other,  through  the  riches  of  that  grace, 

VVhicli  from  so  deep  a  fountain  doth  distil. 

As  never  eye  created  saw  its  rising, 

Plac'd  all  his  love  below  on  just  and  right : 

Wherefore  of  grace  God  op'd  in  him  the  eye  115 

To  the  redemption  of  mankind  to  come  ; 

"Wherein  believing,  he  endur'd  no  more 

The  filth  of  paganism,  and  for  their  ways 

Rebuk'd  the  stubborn  nations.     The  three  nymphs, 

Whom  at  the  right  wheel  thou  bcheldst  advancing,    120 

Were  sponsors  for  him  more  than  thousand  years 

Before  baptizing.     O  hoAv  far  remov'd, 

P]-edestination  !  is  thy  root  from  such. 

As  see  not  the  First  Cause  entire  :  and  ye, 

O  mortal  men  !  be  wary  how  ye  judge  :  125 

For  we,  who  see  our  Maker,  know  not  yet 

The  number  of  the  chosen  :  and  esteem 

Such  scantiness  of  knowledge  our  delight : 

For  all  our  good  is  in  that  primal  good 

Concentrate,  and  God's  will  and  ours  are  one."  130 

So,  by  that  form  divine,  was  giv'n  to  me 
Sweet  medicine  to  clear  and  strengthen  sight, 
And,  as  one  handling  skilfully  the  harp. 
Attendant  on  some  skilful  songster's  voice 
Bids  tlie  chords  vibrate,  and  thei'ein  the  song  135 

Accpiires  more  pleasure  ;  so,  the  Avhilst  it  spake, 
It  doth  remember  me,  that  I  beheld 
Tlie  pair  of  blessed  luminaries  move. 
Like  the  accordant  twinkling  of  two  eyes. 
Their  beamy  circlets,  dancing  to  the  sounds.  140 


314  PARAPTRE. 

CANTO  XXI. 

Again  mine  eyes  were  fix'd  on  Beatrice, 
And  Avilli  mine  eyes  my  soul,  that  in  her  looks 
Found  all  contentment.     Yet  no  smile  she  wore  : 
And,    "Did  I  smile,"    quoth    she,     "thou  wouldst   be 

straight 
Like  Semele  when  into  ashes  turn'd  :  5 

For,  mounting  these  eternal  palace-stairs, 
My  beauty,  which  the  loftier  it  climbs, 
As  thou  hast  noted,  still  doth  kindle  more. 
So  shines,  that,  were  no  temp'ring  interpos'd, 
Thy  mortal  puissance  would  from  its  rays  10 

Shrink,  as  the  leaf  doth  from  the  thunderbolt. 
Into  the  seventh  s])lendour  are  we  wafted. 
That  underneath  the  burning  lion's  breast 
Beams,  in  this  hour,  commingled  with  his  might, 
Thy  mind  be  with  thine  eyes  :  and  in  tliem  mirror'd    15 
The  shape,  which  in  this  mirror  shall  be  shown." 
Whoso  can  deem,  how  fondly  I  had  fed 
My  sight  upon  her  blissful  countenance. 
May  know,  when  to  new  thoughts  I  chang'd,  what  joy 
To  do  the  bidding  of  my  heav'nly  guide:  20 

In  equal  balance  poising  either  weight. 

Within  the  crystal,  which  records  the  name, 
(As  its  remoter  circle  girds  the  world) 
Of  that  lov'd  monarch,  in  whose  happy  reign 
Ko  ill  had  power  to  harm,  I  saw  rear'd  up,  25 

In  colour  like  to  sun-illumin'd  gold. 
A  ladder,  which  my  ken  pursued  in  vain. 
So  lofty  was  the  summit ;  down  whose  steps 
I  saw  the  splendours  in  such  multitude 
Descending,  ev'ry  light  in  heav'n,  methought,  30 

Was  shed  thence.     As  the  rooks,  at  dawn  of  day. 
Bestirring  them  to  dry  their  feathers  chill. 
Some  s])eed  their  way  a-field,  and  homeward  some, 
Keturning,  cross  their  flight,  while  some  abide 
And  wheel  around  their  airy  lodge ;  so  seem'd  35 

That  glitterance,  wafted  on  alternate  Aving, 
As  upon  certain  stair  it  met,  and  clash'd 


PARADISE.  315 

Its  shining.     And  one  ling'rin<]f  near  us,  wax'd 
So  brii^ht,  that  in  my  tliouii-ht  I  saitl  :   "The  love, 
Which  this  betokens  me,  admits  no  doubt."  40 

Unwillingly  from  question  I  refrain, 
To  her,  by  whom  my  silence  and  my  speech 
Are  oi'der'd,  looking  for  a  sign  :   whence  the, 
Who  in  the  sight  of  Him,  that  seeth  all, 
Saw  wherefore  I  was  silent,  promjited  me  45 

T'  indulge  the  fervent  wish  ;  and  I  began  : 
"  I  am  not  worthy,  of  my  own  desert, 
That  thou  shouldst  answer  me  ;  but  for  her  sake, 
Who  hath  vouchsaf  d  my  asking,  spirit  blest ! 
That  in  thy  joy  art  shrouded  !  say  the  cause,  50 

Which  bringeth  thee  so  near :  and  wherefore,  say, 
Doth  the  sweet  symphony  of  Paradise 
Keep  silence  here,  pervading  with  such  sounds 
Of  rapt  devotion  ev'ry  lower  sphere  ?" 
"  Mortal  art  thou  in  hearing  as  in  sight ;  "  55 

Was  the  re])ly  :  "  and  what  forbade  the  smile 
Of  Beatrice  interrujits  our  song. 
Only  to  yield  thee  gladness  of  my  voice, 
And  of  the  light  that  vests  me,  I  thus  far 
Descend  these  hallow'd  steps  :  not  that  more  love  60 

Invites  me  ;  for  lo  !  there  aloft,  as  much 
Or  more  of  love  is  witness'd  in  those  flames: 
But  such  my  lot  by  charity  assign'd. 
That  makes  us  ready  servants,  as  thou  seest, 
To  execute  the  counsel  of  the  Highest."  65 

"  That  in  this  court,"  said  I,  "  O  sacred  lamp  ! 
Love  no  compulsion  needs,  but  follows  free 
Th'  eternal  Providence,  I  well  discern  : 
This  harder  find  to  deem,  why  of  thy  peers 
Thou  only  to  this  office  wert  foredoom'd."  70 

I  had  not  ended,  when,  like  rapid  mill, 
Upon  its  centre  whirl'd  the  light ;  and  then 
The  love,  that  did  inhabit  there,  replied  : 
"  Splendour  eternal,  piercing  through  these  folds. 
Its  virtue  to  my  vision  knits,  and  thus  7^ 

Supported,  lifts  me  so  above  myself, 
That  on  the  sov'ran  essence,  which  it  wells  from, 


.')!()  I'AllADISR. 

I  have  flip  power  to  gaze  :  and  lionce  tlie  joy, 

Whei-owitli  I  sparkle,  equalling  with  my  blaze 

The  keeniiL'bs  of  my  sight.     But  not  the  soul,  80     ! 

That  is  in  heav'n  most  lustrous,  nor  the  seraph  j 

That  hatli  his  eyes  most  fix'd  on  God,  shall  solve  | 

What  thou  hast  ask'd  :  for  in  th'  abyss  it  lies  | 

Of  th'  everlasting  statute  sunk  so  low,  ( 

That  no  created  ken  may  fatiiom  it.  85 

And,  to  the  mortal  world  when  thou  return'st, 

])e  tliis  reported  ;  that  none  henceforth  dare  \ 

Direct  his  footsteps  to  so  dread  a  bourn.  f 

The  mind,  that  here  is  radiant,  on  the  earth 

Is  wrapt  in  mist.     Look  then  if  she  may  do,  90 

Below,  what  passeth  her  ability,  i 

When  she  is  ta'en  to  heav'n."     By  Avords  like  these  i 

Admonish'd,  I  the  question  urg'd  no  more;  *         \ 

And  of  the  spirit  humbly  sued  alone  | 

T'  instruct  me  of  its  state.     "  'Twixt  either  shore  95      1 

Of  Italy,  nor  distant  from  thy  land, 

A  stony  ridge  ariseth,  in  such  sort. 

The  thunder  doth  not  lift  his  voice  so  high,  | 

They  call  it  Catria  :  at  whose  foot  a  cell  t 

Is  sacred  to  the  lonely  Eremite,  100 

For  worship  set  apart  and  holy  rites." 

A  third  time  thus  it  spake  ;  then  added  :  "  There  I 

So  firmly  to  God's  service  I  adher'd,  | 

That  with  no  costlier  viands  than  the  juice 

Of  olives,  easily  I  pass'd  the  heats  105      [ 

Of  summer  and  the  Avinter  frosts,  content  \ 

In  heav'n-ward  musings.     Rich  were  the  returns 

And  fertile,  which  that  cloister  once  was  us'd 

To  render  to  these  heavens  :  now  't  is  fall'n 

Into  a  waste  so  empty,  that  ere  long  llO 

Detection  must  lay  bare  its  vanity 

Pietro  Damiano  there  was  I  y-clept : 

Pietro  the  sinner,  Avhen  before  I  dwelt 

Beside  the  Adriatic,  in  the  house 

Of  our  blest  Lady.     Near  upon  my  close  115 

Of  mortal  life,  through  mucli  im])ortuning 

I  was  constraiu'd  to  wear  the  hat  tliat  still 


PARADISE.  317 

From  bad  to  worse  it  sliiftcd. — Cej)has  came; 
He  came,  who  was  the  Holy  S]>irit'8  vessel, 
Bai-efoot  and  lean,  eating  their  bread,  as  chanc'd,         lliO 
At  the  first  table.     Modern  Sheplierd's  need 
Those  who  on  either  liand  may  pro]i  and  lead  them, 
So  biii-ly  are  they  grown  :  and  from  behind 
Others  to  hoist  them.     Down  tlie  ])alfrey's  sides 
Spread  their  broad  mantles,  so  as  both  the  beasts         125 
Are  cover'd  with  one  skin.     0  patience  !  thou 
That  lookst  on  this  and  doth  endure  so  long." 
I  at  those  accents  saw  the  splendours  down 
P^'rom  step  to  step  alight,  and  ^^■heel,  and  wax. 
Each  circuiting,  more  beautiful.     Round  tliis  loO 

They  came,  and  stay'd  them ;  uttered  them  a  shout 
So  loud,  it  hath  no  likeness  here  :  nor  I 
Wist  what  it  spake,  so  deaf'ning  was  the  thunder. 


CANTO  XXII. 

Astounded,  to  the  guardian  of  my  steps 

I  turn'd  me,  like  tlie  child,  who  alway  runs 

Thither  for  succour,  where  he  trusteth  most, 

And  she  was  like  the  mother,  who  lier  son 

Beholding  pale  and  breathless,  with  lier  voice  5 

Soothes  him,  and  he  is  cheer'd ;  for  thus  she  spake. 

Soothing  me  :  Know'st  not  thou,  thou  art  in  heav'n? 

And  know'st  not  thou,  whatever  is  in  heav'n, 

Is  holy,  and  that  nothing  tliere  is  done 

But  is  done  zealoiisly  and  well  ?     Deem  now,  10 

What  change  in  thee  the  song,  and  what  my  smile 

Had  wrought,  since  thus  the  shout  had  i)Ow'r  to  move 

thee. 
In  which  couldst  thou  have  understood  their  prayers, 
The  vengeance  were  already  known  to  thee. 
Which  thou  must  witness  ere  tliy  mortal  hour,  15 

The  sw^rd  of  heav'n  is  not  in  haste  to  smite, 
Nor  yet  doth  linger,  save  unto  his  seeming. 
Who  in  desire  or  fear  doth  look  for  it. 
But  elsewhere  now  I  bid  thee  turn  thy  view ; 


318  PAKADISE, 

So  shalt  thou  many  a  famous  spirit  l)e]iokl."  20 

Mine  eyes  directinu^,  as  she  will'd,  I  saw 

A  liundred  little  spheres,  that  fairer  grew 

IJy  interchange  of  splendour.     I  remain'd, 

As  one,  who  fearful  of  o'er-much  presuming, 

Abates  in  him  the  keenness  of  desire,  25 

Nor  dares  to  question,  when  amid  those  pearls, 

One  largest  and  niost  lustrous  onward  drew. 

That  it  might  yielo  contentment  to  my  wish  ; 

And  from  within  it  these  the  sounds  I  heard. 

"  If  thou,  like  me,  beheldst  the  charity  30 

That  burns  amongst  us,  what  thy  mind  conceives, 
Were  utter'd.     But  that,  ere  the  lofty  bound 
Thou  reach,  expectance  may  not  weary  thee, 
I  will  make  answer  even  to  the  thought, 
"Which  thou  hast  such  respect  of.     In  old  days,  35 

That  mountain,  at  whose  side  Cassino  rests, 
Was  on  its  height  frequented  by  a  race 
Deceived  and  ill  dispos'd  :  and  I  it  was, 
Who  thither  carried  first  the  name  of  Him, 
Who  brought  the  soul-subliming  truth  to  man.  40 

And  such  a  speeding  grace  shone  over  me. 
That  from  their  impious  worship  I  reclaim'd 
The  dwellers  round  about,  who  with  the  world 
Were  in  delusion  lost.     These  other  flames, 
The  spirits  of  men  contemplative,  were  all  45 

Enliven'd  by  that  warmth,  whose  kindly  force 
Gives  birth  to  flowers  and  fruits  of  holiness. 
Here  is  Macarius ;  Romoaldo  here  : 
And  here  my  brethren,  who  their  steps  refrain'd 
Within  the  cloisters,  and  held  firm  their  heart."  50 

I  answ'ring  thus  ;  "  Thy  gentle  words  and  kind, 
And  this  the  cheerful  semblance,  I  behold 
Not  unobservant,  beaming  in  ye  all. 
Have  rais'd  assurance  in  me,  wakening  it 
Full-blossom'd  in  my  bosom,  as  a  rose  55 

Before  the  sun,  when  the  consummate  flower 
Has  spread  to  utmost  amplitude.     Of  thee 
Therefore  intreat  I,  father !  to  declare 
If  I  may  gain  such  favour,  as  to  gaze 


PARADISE.  319 

Upon  tliine  image,  by  no  covering  veil'd."  GO 

"  Brother!  "  he  thus  rejoinVl,  "  in  tlie  last  spliere 
Expect  completion  of  tliy  lofty  aim, 
For  there  on  each  desire  comj^letion  waits, 
And  there  on  mine  :  where  every  aim  is  found 
Perfect,  entire,  and  for  fulfilment  ripe.  65 

There  all  things  are  as  they  liave  ever  been  : 
For  s})ace  is  none  to  bound,  nor  pole  divides, 
Our  ladder  reaches  even  to  that  clime, 
And  so  at  giddy  distance  mocks  thy  view. 
Thither  the  Patriarch  Jacob  saw  it  stretch  70 

Its  topmost  round,  when  it  appeared  to  him 
With  angels  laden.     But  to  mount  it  now 
None  lifts  his  foot  from  earth  :  and  hence  my  rule 
Is  left  a  profitless  stain  upon  the  leaves ; 
The  walls,  for  abbey  rear'd,  turned  into  dens,  75 

The  cowls  to  sacks  choak'd  up  with  musty  meal. 
Foul  usury  doth  not  more  lift  itself 
Against  God's  pleasure,  than  that  fruit  which  makes 
The  hearts  of  monks  so  Avanton  :  for  whate'er 
Is  in  the  church's  keeping,  all  pertains.  80 

To  such,  as  sue  for  heav'n's  sweet  sake,  and  not 
To  those  who  in  respect  of  kindred  claim, 
Or  on  more  vile  allowance.     Mortal  flesh 
Is  grown  so  dainty,  good  beginnings  last  not 
From  the  oak's  birth,  unto  the  acorn's  setting.  85 

His  convent  Peter  founded  without  gold 
Or  silver  ;  I  with  pray'rs  and  fasting  mine  ; 
And  Francis  his  in  meek  humility. 
And  if  thou  note  the  point,  whence  each  proceeds, 
Then  look  what  it  hath  err'd  to,  thou  shalt  find  90 

The  white  grown  murky.     Jordan  was  turn'd  back  ; 
And  a  less  wonder,  then  the  refluent  sea. 
May  at  God's  pleasure  work  amendment  here." 

So  saying,  to  his  assembly  back  he  drew : 
And  they  together  cluster'd  into  one,  95 

Then  all  roll'd  i;pward  like  an  eddying  wind. 

The  sweet  dame  beckon'd  me  to  follow  them  : 
And,  by  that  influence  only,  so  ])revail'd 
Over  niv  nature,  that  no  natural  motion, 


320  PARADISE. 

Ascondincj  or  (Icscoudiiii;  liorc  below,  100 

II:i(l,  !is  I  inoiiiited,  with  my  jjcnnon  vied. 

So,  re.adcf,  as  my  liope  is  to  return 
Unto  the  lioly  triuin])h,  for  the  whieh 
I  ol'ttimes  wail  my  sins,  and  smite  my  breast. 
Thou  hadst  been  longer  drawing  out  and  thrusting      1U£ 
Thy  finger  in  the  fire,  than  I  was,  ere 
The  sign,  that  followeth  Taurus,  I  beheld, 
And  cntcr'd  its  precinet.     O  glorious  stars  ! 

0  light  impregnate  Avith  exceeding  virtue  ! 

"j^o  whom  whate'er  of  genius  lifteth  me  110 

Above  the  vulgar,  grateful  I  refer; 

With  ye  the  parent  of  all  mortal  life 

Arose  and  set,  when  I  did  first  inhale 

The  Tuscan  air ;  and  afterward,  when  grace 

Vouchsaf'd  me  entrance  to  the  lofty  wheel  115 

That  in  its  orb  impels  ye,  fate  decreed 

My  passage  at  your  clime.     To  you  my  soul 

Devoutly  sighs,  for  virtue  even  now 

To  meet  the  hard  emprize  that  draws  me  on. 

"  Thou  art  so  near  the  sum  of  blessedness,"  120 

Said  Beatrice,  "  that  behoves  thy  ken 
Be  vigilant  and  clear.     And,  to  this  end, 
Or  even  thou  advance  thee  further,  hence 
Look  doAvnward,  and  contemj)late,  what  a  world 
Already  stretched  under  our  feet  there  lies :  125 

So  as  thy  heart  may,  in  its  blithest  mood. 
Present  itself  to  the  triumphal  throng. 
Which  through  the'  etherial  concave  comes  rejoicing." 

I  straight  obey'd ;  and  with  mine  eye  return'd 
Through  all  the  seven  spheres,  and  saw  this  globe        130 
So  })itiful  of  semblance,  that  j^erforce 
It  moved  my  smiles  :  and  him  in  truth  I  liold 
For  wisest,  who  esteems  it  least :  whose  thoughts 
Elsewhere  are  fix'd,  him  worthiest  call  and  best. 

1  saw  the  daughter  of  Latona  shine  185 
Without  the  shadow,  whereof  late  I  deem'd 

'J'hat  dense  and  rare  Avere  cause.     Here  I  sustain'd 

The  visage,  ITyjie-rion  !  of  thy  sun  ; 

And  mark'd,  how  near  him  with  their  circle,  round 


PAllADISE  3'n 

Move  M:ua  and  Dione;  here  disccrn'd  1-10 

Jove's  tempering  'twixt  his  sire  and  son  ;  and  hence 

Their  clianges  and  their  various  aspects 

Distinctly  scann'd.     Nor  might  I  not  descry 

Of  all  the  seven,  how  bulky  each,  how  swift ; 

Nor  of  their  several  distances  not  learn,  145 

Til  is  ]»ctty  area  (o'er  the  which  we  stride 

So  fiercely),  as  along  the  eternal  twins 

I  wound  my  way,  appear'd  before  me  all, 

Forth  from  the  havens  stretch'd  unto  the  hills. 

Then  to  the  beauteous  eyes  mine  eyes  retura'd.  150 


CANTO  XXIII. 

E'en  as  the  bird,  who  midst  the  leafy  bower 

Has,  in  her  nest,  sat  darkling  through  the  night, 

"With  her  sweet  brood,  impatient  to  descry 

Their  wished  looks,  and  to  bring  home  their  food, 

In  the  fond  quest  unconscious  of  her  toil :  5 

She,  of  the  time  prevenient,  on  the  spray, 

That  overhangs  their  couch,  with  wakeful  gaze 

Expects  the  sun  ;  nor  ever,  till  the  dawn, 

Removeth  from  the  east  her  eager  ken  ; 

So  stood  the  dame  erect,  and  bent  her  glance  10 

Wistfully  on  that  region,  where  the  sun 

Abateth  most  his  speed  ;  that,  seeing  her 

Suspense  and  Avand'ring,  I  became  as  one, 

In  whom  desire  is  waken'd,  and  the  hope 

Of  somewhat  new  to  come  fills  Avith  delight.  15 

Short  space  ensued ;  I  was  not  held,  I  say, 
Long  in  expectance,  when  I  saw  the  heav'n 
Wax  more  and  more  rcs;)lendent ;  and,  "  Behold," 
Cried  Beatrice,  "  the  triumphal  hosts 

Of  Christ,  and  all  the  harvest  reap'd  at  length  20 

Of  thy  ascending  up  these  spheres."     Meseem'd, 
That,  while  she  spake  her  image  alLdid  burn, 
And  in  her  eyes  such  fulness  was  of  joy, 
And  I  am  fain  to  pass  unconstrued  by. 

As  in  the  calm  full  moon,  when  Tiivia  smiles,  25 


f 


322  PARADISE. 

in  peerless  beauty,  'mid  Ih'  eternal  nyniplis, 

That  paint  througli  all  its  grilj)lis  the  blue  jn-ufound; 

In  bright  pre-eminence  so  saw  I  there, 

O'er  million  lam]is  a  sun,  from  whom  all  drew 

Tiieir  radiance,  as  from  ours  the  starry  train  :  30 

And  through  the  li\ing  light  so  lustrous  glow'd 

The  substance,  that  my  ken  endur'd  it  not. 

0  ]ieatrice !  sweet  and  precious  guide  ! 
Who  cheer'd  me  with  her  comfoitable  words! 
"  Against  the  virtue,  that  o'erpow'reth  thee,  35 

I     Avails  not  to  resist.     Here  is  the  might,  [ 

And  here  the  wisdom,  which  did  o])en  lay  i 

The  path,  that  had  been  yearned  for  so  long,  I 

Betwixt  the  heav'n  and  earth."     Like  to  the  fire,  \ 

\     That,  in  a  cloud  imprison'd  doth  break  out  40 

I     Expansive,  so  that  from  its  womb  enlarg'd, 
\     Itfalleth  against  nature  to  the  ground; 
j     Thus  in  that  heav'nly  banqueting  my  soul 
I     Outgrew  herself ;  and,  in  the  transport  lost. 
;     Holds  now  remembrance  none  of  what  she  was.  45 

"  Ope  thou  thine  eyes,  and  mark  me :  thou  hast  seen 
Things,  that  empower  thee  to  sustain  my  smile." 

1  was  as  one,  when  a  forgotten  dream 
Doth  come  across  him,  and  he  strives  in  vain 
To  shape  it  in  his  fantasy  again,  50 

'  Whenas  that  gracious  boon  was  i)roffer'd  me, 
Which  never  may  be  cancel'd  from  the  book. 
Wherein  the  past  is  written.     Now  Avere  all  ^ 

Those  tongues  to  sound,  that  have  on  sweetest  milk  i 

Of  Polyliymnia  and  her  sisters  fed  55 

'     And  fatten'd,  not  with  all  their  help  to  boot. 
Unto  the  thousandth  parcel  of  the  truth, 

I     My  song  might  shadow  forth  that  saintly  smile, 

j     How  merely  in  her  saintly  looks  it  wrought. 

'     And  with  such  figuring  of  Paradise  60 

i;    The  sacred  strain  must  leap,  like  one,  that  meets 

|;    A  sudden  interruption  to  his  road. 

i     But  he,  who  thinks  how  ponderous  the  theme, 

j     And  that 't  is  lain  upon  a  mortal  shoulder, 

•     May  pardon,  if  it  tremble  with  the  burden.  65 


TAliADISK.  82S 

The  track,  our  veiitrous  keel  imisl  furrow,  brooks 
No  unribbVi  pinnace,  no  self-s])ariii;j^  pilot. 

"  Why  doth  my  face,"  said  l^eatrice,  "  thus 
Enamour  thee,  as  that  tliou  dost  not  turn 
Unto  the  beautiful  garden,  blossoming  70 

Beneath  the  rays  of  Christ?     Here  is  the  rose. 
Wherein  the  word  divine  Avas  made  incarnate  ; 
And  here  the  lilies,  by  whose  odour  known 
The  way  of  life  was  follow'd."     Prompt  I  heard 
Her  bidding,  and  encounter  once  again  75 

The  strife  of  aching  vision.     As  erewhile, 
Through  glance  of  sunlight,  stream'd    through    broken 

cloud. 
Mine  ejes  a  flower-besprinkled  mead  have  seen, 
Though  veil'd  themselves  in  shade  ;  so  saw  I  there 
Legions  of  splendours,  on  whom  burning  rays  80 

Shed  lightnings  from  above,  yet  saw  I  not 
The  fountain  whence  they  HoAv'd.     O  gracious  virtue ! 
Thou,  whose  broad  statnp  is  on  them,  higher  up 
Thou  didst  exalt  thy  glory  to  give  room 
To  my  o'erlabour'd  sight :  when  at  the  name  85 

Of  that  fair  flower,  whom  duly  I  invoke 
Both  morn  and  eve,  my  soul,  with  all  her  might 
Collected,  on  the  goodliest  ardour  lix'd. 
And,  as  the  bright  dimensions  of  the  star 
In  heav'n  excelling,  as  once  here  on  earth  90 

Were,  in  my  eyeballs  livelily  portray'd, 
Lo  !  from  within  the  sky  a  cresset  fell, 
Circling  in  fashion  of  a  diadem. 
And  girt  the  star,  and  hov'ring  round  it  Avheel'd. 

Whatever  melody  sounds  sweetest  here,  95 

And  draws  the  spirit  most  unto  itself, 
Might  seem  a  rent  cloud  when  it  grates  the  thunder, 
Compar'd  unto  the  sonnding  of  that  lyre. 
Wherewith  the  goodliest  sa])pliire,  that  inlays 
The  floor  of  heav'n,  Avas  croAvn'd.     "Angelic  Love      100 
I  am,  who  tlius  with  hov'ring  flight  enwheel 
The  lofty  rapture  from  that  womb  inspir'd, 
Where. our  desire  did  dwell :  and  I'ound  thee  so, 
Lady  of  Heav'n!  will  hover;  long  as  thou 


8*24  PAUADISE. 

Thy  Son  shalt  folloAv,  and  diviner  joy  105 

Shall  from  thy  ])resence  gild  the  highest  sphere." 

Such  close  was  to  the  circling  melody  : 
And,  as  it  ended,  all  the  other  lights 
Took  up  the  strain,  and  echoed  Mary's  name. 

The  robe,  that  with  its  regal  folds  enwraps  110 

The  world,  and  with  the  nearer  breath  of  God 
Doth  burn  and  quiver,  held  so  far  retir'd 
Its  inner  hem  and  skirting  over  us, 
That  yet  no  glimmer  of  its  majesty 

Had  stream'd  unto  me  :  therefore  were  mine  eyes        115 
Unequal  to  pursue  the  crowned  flame. 
That  rose  and  sought  its  natal  seed  of  fire ; 
And  like  to  babe,  that  stretches  foi'th  its  arras 
For  very  eagerness  towards  the  breast, 
After  the  milk  is  taken  ;  so  outstretch'd  120 

Their  wavy  summits  all  the  ferA^ent  band. 
Through  zealous  love  to  Mary :  then  in  view 
There  halted,  and  "  Regina  Coeli  "  sang 
So  sweetly,  the  delight  hath  left  me  never. 

O  what  o'erflowing  plenty  is  up-pil'd  125 

In  those  rich-laden  coffers,  which  below 
Sow'd  the  good  seed,  whose  harvest  now  they  keep. 

Here  are  the  treasures  tasted,  that  with  tears 
Were  in  the  Babylonian  exile  won, 

When  gold  had  fail'd  them.     Here  in  synod  high         130 
Of  ancient  council  with  the  new  conven'd, 
Under  the  Son  of  Mary  and  of  God, 
Victorious  he  his  mighty  triumph  holds, 
To  whom  the  keys  of  glory  were  assign'd. 


CANTO  XXIV. 

"  O  YE !  in  chosen  fellowship  advanc'd 
To  the  great  supper  of  the  blessed  Lamb, 
Whereon  who  feeds  hath  every  wish  fulfill'd  ! 
If  to  this  man  through  God's  grace  be  vouchsaf  d 
Foretaste  of  that,  which  from  your  table  falls, 
Or  ever  death  his  fated  term  prescribe ; 


PARADISE.  325 

t 

I      Be  ye  not  heedless  of  liis  urgent  Avill ; 

But  may  some  influence  of  yom*  sacred  dews 
Sprinkle  him.     Of  the  fount  ye  alway  di-ink, 
Whence  flows  what  most  he  craves."     Beatrice  spake,  10 
And  the  rejoicing  spirits,  like  to  spheres 
i      On  firm-set  )>oles  revolving,  trail'd  a  blaze 
I      Of  comet  splendour  ;  and  as  wheels,  that  wind 
5      Their  circles  in  the  horologe,  so  work 
!      The  stated  rounds,  that  to  th'  observant  eye  15 

I      The  first  seems  still,  and,  as  it  flew,  the  last ; 
\      E'en  thus  their  carols  weaving  variously, 
I      They  by  the  measure  pac'd,  or  swift,  or  slow, 
I      Made  me  to  rate  the  riches  of  their  joy. 
i  From  that,  which  I  did  note  in  beauty  most  20 

[      Excelling,  saw  I  issue  forth  a  flame 
■      So  bright,  as  none  was  left  more  goodly  there. 
Round  Beatrice  thrice  it  wheel'd  about, 
With  so  divine  a  song,  that  fancy's  ear 
Records  it  not ;  and  the  pen  passeth  on  25 

And  leaves  a  blank  :  for  that  our  mortal  sjieech, 
Nor  e'en  the  inward  shaping  of  the  brain. 
Hath  colours  fine  enough  to  trace  such  folds. 
"  O  saintly  sister  mine  !  thy  prayer  devout 
Is  with  so  vehement  affectinn  urg'd,  30 

Thou  dost  unbind  me  from  tliat  beauteous  sphere." 
Such  were  the  accents  towards  my  lady  breath'd 
From  that  blest  ardour,  soon  as  it  was  stay'd  : 
To  whom  she  thus :  "  O  everlasting  light 
Of  him,  within  Avhose  mighty  gi'asp  our  Lord  35 

Did  leave  the  keys,  which  of  this  wondrous  bliss 
lie  bare  below !  tent  this  man,  as  thou  wilt. 
With  lighter  probe  or  deep,  touching  the  faith, 
By  the  which  thou  didst  on  the  billows  Avalk. 
If  he  in  love,  in  hope,  and  in  belief,  40 

Be  steadfast,  is  not  hid  from  thee  :  for  thou 
Hast  there  thy  ken,  where  all  things  are  beheld 
In  liveliest  portraiture.     But  since  true  faith 
Has  peopled  this  fair  realm  with  citizens. 
Meet  is,  that  to  exalt  its  glory  more,  45 

Thou  in  his  audience  shouldst  thereof  discourse." 


320  PA  UA  DISK. 

Ijike  to  tl>e  hacliclor,  \\^\o  arms  himself, 
And  speaks  not,  till  the  master  have  pro|)os'd 
The  question,  to  a[)])rove,  and  not  to  end  it ; 
So  I,  in  silence,  arm'd  me,  M'hile  she  spake,  60 

Summoning  u])  each  argument  to  aid  ; 
As  was  belioveful  for  such  questioner, 
And  such  profession  :  "  As  good  Chistian  onglit. 
Declare  tlice.  What  is  faith  ?  "     Whereat  I  rais'd 
My  forehead  to  the  light,  -wlience  this  had  breath'd,       55 
Tlien  turn'd  to  Beatrice,  and  in  her  looks 
A]>proval  met,  that  from  their  inmost  fount 
I  should  unlock  the  waters.     "  May  the  grace, 
That  giveth  me  the  captain  of  the  church 
For  confessor,"  said  I,  "  vouclisafe  to  me  60 

A]>t  utterance  for  my  thouglits  !  "  then  added  :  "  Sire  ! 
E'en  as  set  down  by  the  unerring  style 
Of  thy  dear  brother,  who  with  thee  conspir'd 
To  bring  Rome  in  unto  the  way  of  life. 
Faith  of  things  hop'd  is  substance,  and  the  proof  65 

Of  things  not  seen';  and  hei-ein  doth  consist 
Methinks  its  essence," — "  Rightly  hast  thou  deem'd," 
Was  answer'd  :  "  if  thou  well  discern,  why  first 
He  hath  defin'd  it,  substance,  and  then  ])roof." 

"  The  deep  things,"  I  replied,  "  which  here  I  scan      70 
Distinctly,  are  below  from  mortal  eye 
So  hidden,  they  liave  in  belief  alone 
Their  being,  on  which  credence  hope  sublime 
Is  built ;  and  therefore  substance  it  intends. 
And  inasmuch  as  we  must  needs  infer  75 

From  such  belief  our  reasoning,  all  respect 
To  otlier  view  excluded,  hence  of  j^roof 
Th'  intention  is  deriv'd."     Forthwith  I  heard  : 
"  If  thus,  whate'er  by  learning  men  attain. 
Were  understood,  the  sophist  would  want  room  80 

To  exercise  his  Avit."     So  breath'd  the  flame 
Of  love  :  then  added  :  "  Current  is  the  coin 
Thou  ntter'st,  botli  in  weight  and  in  alloy. 
But  tell  me,  if  thou  hast  it  in  thy  purse." 

"  Even  so  glittering  and  so  round,"  said  I,  85 

"  T  not  a  whit  misdoubt  of  its  assay." 


PARADISE.  327 

Next  issued  from  the  deep  imbosom'd  splendour: 
"  Say,  whence  the  costly  jewel,  on  the  which 
Is  founded  every  virtue,  came  to  thee." 
"The  Hood,"  I  answer'd,  "from  the  Spirit  of  God  90 

Rain'd  down  upon  the  ancient  bond  and  new, — 
Here  is  the  reas'ning,  that  convinceth  me 
So  feelingly,  each  argument  beside 
Seems  blunt  and  forceless  in  comparison." 
Then  heard  I :  "  Wherefore  boldest  thou  that  each,        95 
The  elder  proposition  and  the  new, 
Which  so  persuade  thee,  are  the  voice  of  heav'n  ?  " 

"  The  works,  that  follow'd,  evidence  their  truth  ;  " 
I  answer'd :  "Nature  did  not  make  for  these 
The  iron  hot,  or  on  her  anvil  mould  them."  100 

"  Who  voucheth  to  thee  of  the  works  themselves, 
Was  the  reply,  "  that  they  in  very  deed 
Are  that  they  purport  ?     None  hath  sworn  so  to  thee." 
"  That    all   the  world,"   said  I,    "  should   have   been 
turn'd 
To  Christian,  and  no  miracle  been  Avrought,  105 

AYould  in  itself  be  such  a  miracle. 
The  rest  were  not  an  hundredth  part  so  great. 
E'en  thou  wentst  forth  in  poverty  and  hunger 
To  set  the  goodly  plant,  that  from  the  vine, 
It  once  was,  now  is  grown  unsightly  bramble."  110 

That  ended,  through  the  higli  celestial  court 
Resounded  all  the  spheres.     "Praise  we  one  God !  " 
In  song  of  most  unearthly  melody. 
And  wlien  that  Worthy  thus,  from  branch  to  branch, 
Examining,  had  led  me,  that  we  now  115 

Ap])roach'd  the  topmost  bough,  he  straight  resum'd  ; 
"  Tlie  grace,  that  holds  sweet  dalliance  with  thy  soul, 
So  far  discreetly  hath  tliy  lips  unclos'd 
That,  whatsoe'er  has  past  them,  I  commend. 
Behoves  thee  to  express,  what  thou  believ'st,  120 

The  next,  and  whereon  thy  belief  hath  grown." 

"  O  saintly  sire  and  spirit !  "  I  began, 
"Who  seest  that,  which  thou  didst  so  believe, 
As  to  outstrip  feet  younger  than  thine  own, 
Toward  the  sepulchre  ?  thy  will  is  here,  125 


i       328  I'AKADISE. 

Tliat  I  tliG  tcnour  of  my  creed  unfold  ; 
And  thou  tlie  cause  of  it  hast  likewise  ask'd. 
And  I  reply  :  I  in  one  God  believe, 
One  sole  eternal  Godhead,  of  Avhose  love 

i     All  heav'n  is  niov'd,  himself  unmov'd  the  while.  130 

I     Nor  demonstration  ])hysical  alone, 

I     Or  more  intelligential  and  a))struse, 

f     Persuades  me  to  this  faith  ;  but  from  that  truth 
It  Cometh  to  me  rather,  which  is  shed 
Through  Moses,  the  rapt  Prophets,  and  the  Psalms.    135 
The  Gospel,  and  that  ye  yourselves  did  write. 
When  ye  were  gifted  of  the  Holy  Ghost. 
In  three  eternal  Persons  I  believe. 
Essence  threefold  and  one,  mysterious  league 
Of  union  absolute,  which,  many  a  time,  140 

The  word  of  gospel  lore  upon  my  mind 
Imprints  :  and  from  this  germ,  this  firstling  spark, 
The  lively  flame  dilates,  and  like  heav'n's  star 
Doth  glitter  in  me."     As  the  master  hears, 
Well  pleas'd,  and  then  enfoldeth  in  his  arms  145 

The  servant,  who  hath  joyful  tidings  brought, 
And  having  told  the  errand  keeps  his  peace ; 
Thus  benediction  uttering  with  song 
Soon  as  my  peace  I  held,  compass'd  me  thrice 
The  apostolic  radiance,  whose  behest  150 

I      Had  op'd  lips ;  so  well  their  answer  pleas'd. 


CANTO    XXV. 

If  e'er  the  sacred  poem  that  hath  made 

Both  heav'n  and  earth  copartners  in  its  toil. 

And  with  lean  abstinence,  through  many  a  year, 

Faded  my  brow,  be  destin'd  to  prevail 

Over  the  cruelty,  which  bai's  me  forth  5 

Of  the  fair  sheep-fold,  where  a  sleeping  lamb 

The  wolves  set  on  and  fain  had  worried  me, 

With  other  voice  and  fleece  of  other  grain 

I  shall  forthwith  return,  and,  standing  up 

At  my  baptismal  font,  shall  claim  the  wreath  10 


4- 


PARADISE.  329 

Due  to  the  poet's  temj^les  :  for  I  there 
First  enter'd  on  the  faith  which  niaketh  souls 
Acceptable  to  God  :  and,  for  its  sake, 
Peter  had  then  circled  my  forehead  thus. 

Next  from  the  squadron,  whence  had  issued  forth       15 
Tlie  first  fruit  of  Christ's  vicars  on  the  earth, 
Toward  us  mov'd  a  light,  at  view  whereof 
My  Lady,  full  of  gladness,  spake  to  me  : 
"  Lo !  lo  !  behold  the  peer  of  mickle  might, 
That  makes  Falicia  throng'd  with  visitants  ! "  20 

As  when  the  ring-dove  by  his  mate  alights, 
In  circles  each  about  the  other  wheels. 
And  murmuring  cooes  his  fondness  ;  thus  saw  I 
One,  of  the  other  great  and  glorious  prince, 
With  kindly  greeting  hail'd  ;  extolling  both  25 

Their  heavenly  banqueting;  but  Avhen  an  end 
Was  to  their  gratulation,  silent,  each, 
Before  me  sat  they  down,  so  burning  bright, 
I  could  not  look  upon  them.     Smiling  then, 
Beatrice  spake  :  "  O  life  in  glory  shrin'd  !  30 

Who  didst  the  largess  of  our  kingly  court 
Set  down  with  faithful  pen  !  let  now  thy  voice 
Of  hope  the  praises  in  this  height  resound. 
For  thou,  who  figur'st  them  in  shapes,  as  clear. 
As  Jesus  stood  before  thee,  well  can'st  speak  them."      35 

"  Lift  up  thy  head  :  and  be  thou  strong  in  trust: 
For  that,  which  hither  from  the  mortal  Avorld 
Arriveth,  must  be  ripen'd  in  our  beam." 

Such  cheering  accents  from  the  second  flame 
Assur'd  me  ;  and  mine  eyes  I  lifted  up  40 

Unto  the  mountains  that  had  bow'd  them  late 
With  over-heavy  burden.     "  Sith  our  Liege 
Wills  of  his  grace,  that  thou,  or  ere  tliy  death, 
In  the  most  secret  council,  with  his  lords 
Shouldst  be  confronted,  so  that  having  view'd  45 

The  glories  of  our  court,  thou  mayst  therewith  i 

Thyself,  and  all  who  hear,  invigorate  1 

With  liope,  that  leads  to  blissful  end  ;  declare,  I 

What  is  that  hope,  how  it  doth  flourish  in  thee,  \ 

And  whence  thou  hadst  it?"  Thus  proceeding  still,       50 


330  PARADISE.  I 

The  second  lit:^1it  :  and  she,  whose  gentle  love  j 

My  sonring  pennons  in  that  lofty  fliy'lit 

Escorted,  tlius  jn-eventing  me,  rejoin'd  : 

"  Among  her  sons,  not  one  more  fnll  of  liope, 

Hath  the  churcli  militant :  so  't  is  of  him  55 

Recorded  in  the  sun,  whose  liberal  orb 

Enlighteneth  all  onr  tribe  :  and  ere  his  terra 

Of  warfare,  hence  permitted  he  is  come, 

From  Egypt  to  Jerusalem,  to  see. 

The  other  points,  both  which  thou  hast  inquir'd,  60 

Not  for  more  knowledge,  but  that  he  may  tell 

How  dear  thou  holdst  the  virtue,  these  to  him 

Leave  I ;  for  he  may  answer  thee  with  ease, 

And  without  boasting,  so  God  give  him  grace." 

Like  to  the  scholar,  practis'd  in  his  task,  65 

Who,  willing  to  give  proof  of  diligence, 

Seconds  his  teacher  gladly,  "  Hope,"  said  I, 

"  Is  of  the  joy  to  come  a  sure  expectance. 

Th'  effect  of  grace  divine  and  merit  preceding. 

This  light  from  many  a  star  visits  my  heart,  70 

But  How'd  to  me  the  first  from  him,  who  sang 

The  songs  of  the  Supreme,  himself  suj)reme 

Among  his  tuneful  brethren.     '  Let  all  hope 

In  thee,'  so  speak  his  anthem,  '  who  have  known 

Thy  name  ;'  and  with  my  faith  who  know  not  that  ?       75 

From  thee,  the  next,  distilling  from  his  spring,  ; 

In  thine  epistle,  fell  on  me  the  drops  i 

So  plenteously,  that  I  on  others  shower 

The  influence  of  their  dew."     Whileas  I  spake,  i 

A  lamping,  as  of  quick  and  vollied  lightning,  80      | 

Within  the  bosom  of  that  mighty  sheen,  I 

Play'd  tremulous  ;  then  forth  these  accents  breath'd  :  | 

"  Love  for  the  virtue  which  attended  me  j 

E'en  to  the  palm,  and  issuing  from  the  field,  | 

Glows  vigorous  yet  within  me,  and  inspires  85      « 

To  ask  of  thee,  whom  also  it  delights ;  \ 

What  promise  thou  from  hojie  in  chief  dost  win." 

"Both  scriptures,  new  and  ancient,"  I  re])ly'd, 
"  Propose  the  mark  (which  even  now  I  view) 
For  souls  belov'd  of  God.     Isaias  saith,  90      ', 

S 


PAKADTRK. 


331 


'Tlint,  in  their  own  land,  each  one  must  l)e  clad 

In  twofold  vesture;'  and  tlicir  jM-ojjer  land 

Is  this  delicious  life.     In  terms  more  full, 

And  clearer  far,  thy  brother  hath  set  forth 

This  revelation  to  us,  where  ho  tells  95 

Of  the  Avhite  raiment  destin'd  to  the  saints." 

And,  as  the  words  were  ending,  from  ahove, 

"  They  hope  in  thee,"  first  heard  we  cried  :  whereto 

Answer'd  the  carols  all.     Amidst  them  next, 

A  light  of  so  clear  am])litude  cmerg'd,  100 

That  M-inter's  month  were  but  a  single  day, 

Were  such  a  crystal  in  the  Cancer's  sign. 

Like  as  a  virgin  riseth  uj),  and  goes. 
And  enters  on  the  mazes  of  the  dance, 
Though  gay,  yet  innocent  of  worse  intent,  105 

Than  to  do  fitting  honour  to  the  bride  ; 
So  I  beheld  the  new  effulgence  come 
Unto  the  other  two,  who  in  a  ring 
"VVheel'd,  as  became  their  rapture.     In  the  dance 
And  in  the  song  it  mingled.     And  the  dame  110 

Held  on  them  fix'd  her  looks  :  e'en  as  the  spouse 
Silent  and  moveless.     "This  is  he,  who  lay 
Upon  the  bosom  of  our  pelican  : 
This  he,  into  whose  keeping  from  the  cross 
The  mighty  charge  was  given."     Thus  she  spake,         115 
Yet  therefore  naught  the  more  remov'd  her  sight 
From  marking  them,  or  ere  her  words  began. 
Or  when  they  clos'd.     As  he,  who  looks  intent. 
And  strives  with  searching  ken,  how  he  may  see 
The  sun  in  his  eclipse,  and,  through  desire  liiO 

Of  seeing,  loseth  power  of  sight :  so  I 
Peer'd  on  that  last  resplendence,  while  I  heard  : 
"  Why  dazzlest  thou  thine  ej-es  in  seeking  that, 
Whicii  here  abides  not  ?  Earth  my  body  is. 
In  earth:  and  shall  be,  with  the  rest,  so  long,  125 

As  till  our  number  equal  the  decree 
Of  the  Most  High.     The  two  that  have  ascended, 
In  this  our  blessed  cloister,  shine  alone 
With  the  two  garments.     So  report  below." 

As  when,  for  ease  of  labour,  or  to  shun  130 


332  PAUADISE. 

Suspected  peril  at  a  wliistlo's  l)i-eatli, 

The  oars,  erewliile  dasliM  fre(|ueut  in  the  wave, 

All  rest ;  the  ilamy  ciicle  at  tliat  voice 

So  rested,  and  the  minnlini^  sound  was  still, 

Which  from  the  triual  hand  soft-breathini;-  i-ose.  135 

I  turn'd,  but  ah  !  how  trembled  in  my  thouy;ht, 

When,  looking  at  my  side  again  to  see 

Beatrice,  I  descried  her  not,  although 

Not  distant,  on  the  happy  coast  she  stood. 


CANTO  XXVI. 

With  dazzled  eyes,  Avhilst  wond'ring  I  remain'd, 

Forth  of  the  beamy  flame  which  dazzled  me, 

Issued  a  breath,  that  in  attention  mute 

Detain'd  me;  and  these  words  it  sjxake :  " 'Twere  well, 

That,  long  as  till  thy  vision,  on  my  form  5 

O'erspent,  regain  its  virtue,  Avith  discourse 

Thou  comi)ensate  the  brief  delay.'    Say  then, 

Beginning,  to  what  point  thy  soul  ns])ires  : 

And  meanwhile  rest  assur'd,  that  sight  in  thee 

Is  but  o'erpowcred  a  space,  not  wholly  quench'd :  10 

Since  thy  fair  guide  and  lovely,  in  her  look 

Hath  potency,  the  like  to  that  which  dwelt 

In  Ananias'  hand."     I  answering  thus  : 

"  Be  to  mine  eyes  the  remedy  or  late 

Or  early,  at  her  pleasure  ;  for  they  were  15 

The  gates,  at  which  she  enter'd,  and  did  light 

Her  never-dying  fire.     My  wishes  hei-e 

Are  centred ;  in  this  palace  is  the  weal, 

That  Alpha  and  Omega,  is  to  all 

The  lessons  love  can  read  me."     Yet  again  20 

The  voice  which  had  dispers'd  my  fear,  when  daz'd 

With  that  excess,  to  converse  urg'd,  and  spake  : 

"Behoves  thee  sift  more  narrowly  thy  terms, 

And  say,  who  level'd  at  this  scope  thy  bow." 

"Philosophy,"  said  I,  " hath  arguments,  25 

And  this  place  hath  authority  enough 
'T'  imprint  in  ]iic  such  love  :  for,  of  constraint, 


PARADISE.  338 

Good,  inasmuch  as  we  perceive  the  goorl, 

Kindles  our  love,  and  in  degree  the  more, 

As  it  comprises  more  of  goodness  in  't.  30 

The  essence  then,  where  such  advantage  is. 

That  each  good,  found  without  it,  is  naught  else 

But  of  his  light  the  beam,  must  needs  attract 

The  soul  of  each  one,  loving,  who  tlie  truth 

Discerns,  on  which  this  ])roof  is  built.     Such  truth        35 

Learn  I  from  him,  who  shows  me  the  first  love 

Of  all  intelligential  substances 

Eternal :  from  his  voice  I  learn,  whose  word 

Is  truth,  that  of  himself  to  Moses  saith, 

'  I  will  make  all  my  good  before  thee  pass.'  40 

Lastly  from  thee  I  learn,  who  chief  proclaim'st,  ; 

E'en  at  the  outset  of  thy  heralding,  ( 

In  mortal  ears  the  mystery  of  heav'n."  i| 

"  Through  human  wisdom,  and  tli'  authority  | 

Therewith  agreeing,"  heard  I  answer'd,  "  keep  45       I 

The  choicest  of  thy  love  for  God.     But  say,  | 

If  thou  yet  other  cords  within  thee  feel'st  | 

That  draw  tliee  towards  him  ;  so  that  thou  report  i 

How  many  are  the  fangs,  w5t,]i  which  this  love  | 

Is  grappled  to  thy  soul."     1   iid  not  miss,  50       ' 

To  what  intent  the  eagle  of  our  Lord  | 

Had  pointed  his  demand  ;  yea  noted  well  c 

Th'  avowal,  which  he  led  to  ;  and  resum'd  :  - 

"  All  grappling  bonds,  that  knit  the  heart  to  God, 
Confederate  to  make  fast  our  charity.  55 

The  being  of  the  world,  and  mine  own  being,  \ 

The  death  which  He  endur'd  that  I  sliould  live,  \ 

And  that,  which  all  the  faithful  hope,  as  I  do,  ! 

To  the  foremcntiou'd  lively  knowledge  join'd,  1 

Have  from  the  sea  of  ill  love  sav'd  my  bark,  60       I 

And  on  the  coast  secur'd  it  of  the  right.  I 

As  for  the  leaves,  that  in  the  garden  bloom, 
My  love  for  them  is  great,  as  is  the  good  | 

Dealt  by  th'  eternal  hand,  that  tends  them  all."  I 

I  ended,  and  therewith  a  song  most  sweet  65       j 

Rang  through  the  sjjheres ;  and  "  Holy,  holy,  holy,"  I 

Accordant  with  the  rest  my  lady  sang. 


334  PARADISK. 

And  as  a  sleep  is  bvolcen  and  (lisj)crs'd 
i      Tlirouo;]i  sliarj)  encounter  of  tlie  nimble  li!j;lit, 
I      With  tlic  eye's  spirit  running  forth  to  meet  70 

Tlic  ray,  from  membrane  on  to  the  membrane  urgM ; 

And  the  upstartled  wight  loathes  that  he  sees; 

So,  at  his  sudden  waking,  he  misdeems 

Of  all  around  him,  till  assurance  waits 

On  better  judgment :  thus  the  saintly  dame  75 

])rove  from  before  mine  eyes  the  motes  away, 

With  the  res])lendence  of  her  own,  that  cast 

Their  brightness  downward,  thousand  miles  below. 

Whence  I  my  vision,  clearer  than  before, 

Recover'd  ;  and,  well  nigh  astounded,  ask'd  80 

Of  a  fourth  light,  that  now  with  us  I  saw. 
!  And  Beatrice  :  "  The  first  living  soul, 

:     That  ever  the  first  virtue  fram'd,  admires 

Within  these  rays  his  Maker."     Like  the  leaf, 
i     That  bows  its  lithe  top  till  the  blast  is  blown  ;  85 

By  its  own  virtue  rear'd  then  stands  aloof ; 
I      So  I,  the  whilst  she  said,  awe-stricken  bow'd. 
I     Then  eagerness  to  speak  embolden'd  me ; 
i     And  I  began  :  "  O  fruit !  that  wast  alone 

Mature,  when  first  engender'd  !     Ancient  father  !  DO 

That  doubly  seest  in  every  wedded  bride 
t     Thy  daughter  by  afiinity  and  blood  ! 
1     Devoutly  as  I  may,  I  pray  thee  hold 
I     Converse  with  me:  my  will  thou  seest;  and  I, 
I     More  speedily  to  hear  thee,  tell  it  not."  95 

\         It  chanceth  oft  some  animal  bewrays, 
i     Through  the  sleek  cov'ring  of  his  furry  coat. 
I     The  fondness,  that  stii-s  in  him  and  conforms 
j     His  outside  seeming  to  the  cheer  within  : 
)     And  in  like  guise  was  Adam's  spirit  mov'd  100 

;      To  joyous  mood,  that  through  the  covering  shone, 
j      Transparent,  when  to  pleasure  me  it  sjjake  : 

"No  need  thy  will  be  told,  which  I  untold 
I      Better  discern,  than  thou  whatever  thing 
i      Thou  holdst  most  certain  :  for  that  will  I  see  105 

In  Him,  Avho  is  ti-uth's  mii'ror,  and  Himself 
i      Parhelion  unto  all  things,  and  naught  else 


PARADISE.  33t< 

To  Hiiri.     This  wouldst  thou  liear;  liow  \oug  since  God 

Plac'd  me  high  garden,  from  Avhose  bounds 

She  led  me  nj)  in  tliis  hidder,  steep  and  long;  IK 

What  space  endur'd  my  season  of  delight; 

Whence  truly  sprang  the  wrath  that  banish'd  me  ; 

And  what  the  language,  "svliich  I  S])ake  and  frani'd 

Not  that  I  tasted  of  the  tree,  my  son, 

Was  in  itself  the  cause  of  that  exile,  115 

But  only  my  transgressing  of  the  mark 

Assign'd  me.     There,  whence  at  thy  lady's  hest 

The  Mantuan  mov'd  liim,  still  Avas  Idebarr'd 

This  council,  till  the  sun  had  made  com])lete. 

Four  thousand  and  three  hundred  rounds  and  twice, 

His  annual  journey  ;  and,  through  every  light  121 

In  his  broad  pathway,  saw  I  him  return. 

Thousand  save  sev'nty  times,  the  whilst  I  dwelt 

Upon  the  earth.     The  language  I  did  use 

Was  Avorn  away,  or  ever  Nimrod's  race  125 

Their  unaccomplishable  work  began. 

For  naught,  that  man  inclines  to,  ere  was  lasting, 

Left  by  his  reason  free,  and  variable. 

As  is  the  sky  that  sways  him.     That  he  speaks, 

Is  nature's  prompting:  whether  thus  or  thus,  130 

She  leaves  to  you,  as  ye  do  most  affect  it. 

Ere  I  descended  into  liell's  abyss. 

El  was  the  name  on  earth  of  the  Chief  Good, 

Whose  joy  enfolds  me :  Eli  then  't  was  call'd  • 

And  so  beseeraeth  :  for,  in  mortals,  use  135 

Is  as  the  leaf  upon  the  bough  ;  that  goes, 

And  other  comes  instead.     Upon  the  mount 

Most  high  above  tlie  waters,  all  my  life. 

Both  innocent  and  guilty,  did  but  reach 

From  the  first  hour,  to  that  which  comech  next  140 

(As  the  sun  changes  quarter),  to  the  sixth. 


CANTO  XXVII. 

Then  "  Glory  to  the  Father,  to  the  Sod,  | 

And  to  the  Holy  Si)ii-it,"  rang  aloud  j 


33G  PARADISE. 

TIirou2;hout  all  Paradise,  that  with  tho  song 
My  s])irit  i-oelM,  so  passini^  sweet  the  strain: 
And  wliat  I  saw  was  equal  ecstasy  ;  5 

;       One  universal  smile  it  seeni'd  of  all  things, 
I       J*'y  P'lst  compare,  gladness  unutterable, 
I       In;]ierishable  life  of  peace  and  love, 
1       Exiuiustless  riches  and  unmeasur'd  bliss. 
1;  Before  mine  eves  stood  the  four  torches  lit :  10 

i       And  that,  which  first  had  come,  began  to  wax 
j;       In  brightness,  and  in  semblance  such  became, 
I       As  Jove  might  be,  if  he  and  Mars  were  birds, 
And  interchang'd  their  plumes.     Silence  ensued, 
Through  the  blest  quire,  by  Him,  who  here  appoints      15 
Vicissitude  of  ministry,  enjoin'd  ; 
When  thus  I  heard  :  "  Wonder  not,  if  my  hue 
Be  chang'd ;  for,  while  I  speak,  these  shalt  thou  see 
All  in  like  manner  change  with  me.     My  place 
He  who  usurps  on  earth  (my  place,  ay,  mine,  20 

Which  in  the  presence  of  the  Son  of  God 
Is  void},  the  same  hath  made  my  cemetery 
A  common  sewer  of  puddle  and  of  blood  : 
The  more  below  his  triumnh,  who  from  hence 
Malignant  fell."     Such  colour,  as  the  sun,  25 

At  eve  or  morning,  paints  and  adverse  cloud, 
Then  saw  I  sprinkled  over  all  the  sky. 
I       And  as  th'  unblemish'd  dame,  who  in  herself 
I       Secure  of  censure,  yet  at  bare  report 
I       Of  other's  failing,  shrinks  with  maiden  fear  ;  ■  30 

I       So  Beatrice  in  her  semblance  chang'd  : 
I       And  such  eclipse  in  heav'a  methinks  was  seen, 
I       When  the  Most  Holy  suffer'd.     Then  the  words 
Proceeded,  with  voice,  alter'd  from  itself 
So  clean,  the  semblance  did  not  alter  more,  35 

?       "Not  to  this  end  was  Christ's  spouse  with  my  blood, 
I       With  that  of  Linus,  and  of  Cletus  fed  : 
:      That  she  might  serve  for  purchase  of  base  gold  : 
I      But  for  the  purchase  of  this  happy  life 
I       Did  Sextus,  Pius,  and  Callixtus  bleed,  40 

I      And  Urban,  they,  whose  doom  was  not  Avithout 
I      Much  weeping  seal'd.     No  purpose  was  of  ours. 


TT- 


PARADISE.  337 

That  oil  tlu!  ri^lit  Iiaiid  of  our  successors 
I'art  of  the  Christian  jieoplc  should  be  set, 
And  ])art  u))on  their  left ;  nor  that  the  keys,  45 

Which  were  vouelisafd  me,  should  for  ensign  serve 
Unto  the  banners,  that  do  levy  war 
On  the  baptiz'd  :  nor  I,  for  sigil-raark 
Set  upon  sold  and  lying  privileges  ; 

Which  makes  me  oft  to  bicker  and  tui'n  red.  50 

In  shepherd's  clothing  greedy  wolves  below 
Range  wide  o'er  all  the  pastures.     Arm  of  God  ! 
Why  longer  sleepst  thou  ?     Caorsines  and  Gascons 
Prepare  to  quaff  our  blood.     O  good  beginning 
To  what  a  vile  conclusion  must  thou  stooji!  55 

But  the  high  providence,  which  did  defend 
j       Through  Scipio  the  world's  glory  unto  Rome, 
I       Will  not  delay  its  succour :  and  thou,  son, 

AVho  througli  thy  mortal  weight  shall  yet  again 
Return  below,  open  thy  lips,  nor  hide  6U 

AVhat  is  by  me  not  hidden."     As  a  flood 
Of  frozen  va])Ours  streams  adown  tlie  air, 
What  time  the  she-goat  with  her  skiey  horn 
i      Touches  the  sun  ;  so  saw  I  there  stream  wide 

The  vapours,  who  with  us  had  linger'd  late  65 

And  with  glad  triumph  deck  th'  etherial  cope. 
Onward  my  sight  their  semblances  pursued; 
So  far  pursued,  as  till  the  space  between 
P^rom  its  reach  sever'd  them  :  whereat  the  guide 
Celestial,  marking  me  no  more  intent  70 

On  upward  gazing,  said,  "  Look  down  and  see 
What  circuit  thou  hast  compass'd."     From  the  hour 
When  I  before  had  cast  ray  view  beneath, 
All  the  first  region  overpast  I  saw, 

Which  from  the  midmost  to  the  bound'ry  winds  ;  75 

That  onward  thence  from  Gades  I  beheld 
The  unwise  passage  of  Laertes'  son, 
And  hitherward  the  shore,  where  thou,  Europa  I 
IVIad'st  thee  a  joyful  burden  :  and  yet  more 
Of  this  dim  spot  had  seen,  but  that  the  sun,  80 

A  constellation  off  and  more,  had  ta'ea 
Ilis  progress  in  the  zodiac  underneath. 

22 


338  PARADISE. 

Then  by  the  spirit,  that  dotlt  never  leave 
Its  amorous  (hilliance  with  my  lady's  looks, 
Back  -with  redoubled  ardour  were  mine  eyes  85 

Led  unto  her  :  and  from  her  radiant  smiles, 
Whenas  I  turn'd  me,  pleasure  so  divine 
Did  lighten  on  me,  that  whatever  bait 
Or  art  or  nature  in  the  human  flesh, 

Or  in  its  limn'd  resemblance,  can  combine  90 

Through  greedy  eyes  to  take  the  soul  withal, 
Were  to  her  beauty  nothing.     Its  boon  influence 
From  the  fair  nest  of  Leda  rapt  me  forth, 
And  wafted  on  into  the  swiftest  heav'n. 

What  place  for  entrance  Beatrice  chose,  95 

I  may  not  say,  so  uniform  was  all, 
Liveliest  and  loftiest.     She  my  secret  wish 
Divin'd ;  and  with  such  gladness,  that  God's  love 
Seem'd  from  her  visage  shining,  thus  began  : 
"  Here  is  the  goal,  whence  motion  on  his  race  100 

Starts  ;  motionless  the  centre,  and  the  rest 
All  mov'd  around.     Except  the  soul  divine. 
Place  in  this  heav'n  is  none,  the  soul  divine, 
Wherein  the  love,  which  ruleth  o'er  its  orb. 
Is  kindled,  and  the  virtue  that  it  sheds  ;  105 

One  circle,  light  and  love,  enclasping  it, 
As  this  doth  clasp  the  others  ;  and  to  Him, 
Who  draws  the  bound,  its  limit  only  known. 
Measur'd  itself  by  none,  it  doth  divide 
Motion  to  all,  counted  unto  them  forth,  110 

As  by  the  fifth  or  half  ye  count  forth  ten. 
The  vase,  wherein  time's  roots  are  jilung'd,  thou  seest, 
Look  elsewhei'e  for  the  leaves.     O  mortal  lust ! 
That  canst  not  lift  thy  head  above  the  waves 
Which  whelm  and  sink  thee  down  !  The  will  in  man  115 
Bears  goodly  blossoms  ;  but  its  ruddy  promise 
Is,  by  the  dripping  of  ]>erpetual  rain, 
Made  mere  abortion :  faith  and  innocence 
Are  met  with  but  in  babes,  each  taking  leave 
Ere  cheeks  with  down  are  sjn-inkled  ;  he,  that  fasts,    120 
While  yet  a  stammerer,  with  his  tongue  let  loose 
Gluts  every  food  alike  in  every  moon. 


■Itt^M^iMW 


PARADISE.  339 

One  yet  a  babbler,  loves  and  listens  to 

His  mother ;  but  no  sooner  hath  free  use 

Of  speech,  than  he  cloth  wish  her  in  her  grave.  125 

So  suddenly  doth  the  fair  child  of  him, 

Whose  Avelcome  is  the  morn  and  eve  his  parting, 

To  negro  blackness  change  her  virgin  white. 

"  Thou,  to  abate  thy  wonder,  note  that  none 
Bears  rule  in  earth,  and  its  frail  family  130 

Are  therefore  wand'rers.     Yet  before  the  date, 
"When  through  the  hundredth  in  his  reck'ning  dropt 
Pale  January  must  be  shov'd  aside 
From  winter's  calendar,  these  heav'nly  spheres 
Shall  roar  so  loud,  that  fortune  shall  be  fain  135 

To  turn  the  poop,  where  she  hath  now  the  prow ; 
So  that  the  fleet  run  onward  ;  and  true  fruit, 
Expected  long,  shall  crown  at  last  the  bloom ! " 


CANTO  XXVIII. 

So  she  who  doth  imparadise  my  soul, 

Had  drawn  the  veil  from  off  our  present  life, 

And  bar'd  the  truth  of  poor  mortality  ; 

"When  lo  !  as  one  who,  in  a  mirror,  spies 

The  shining  of  a  flambeau  at  his  back,  6 

Lit  sudden  ere  he  deem  of  its  approach, 

And  turneth  to  resolve  him,  if  the  glass 

Have  told  him  true,  and  sees  the  record  faithful 

As  note  is  to  its  metre  ;  even  thus, 

I  well  remember,  did  befal  to  me,  10 

Looking  upon  the  beauteous  eyes,  whence  love 

Had  made  the  leash  to  take  me.     As  I  turn'd ; 

And  that,  Avhich,  in  their  circles,  none  who  spies, 

Can  miss  of,  in  itself  apparent,  struck 

On  mine  ;  a  point  I  saw,  that  darted  light  15 

So  sharp,  no  lid,  imclosing,  may  bear  up 

Against  its  keenness.     The  least  star  we  view 

From  hence,  had  seem'd  a  moon,  set  by  its  side, 

As  star  by  side  of  star.     And  so  far  off, 

Perchance,  as  is  the  halo  from  the  light,  20 


340  PARADISE. 

Wliicli  i)aints  it,  Avhcn  most  dense  tlie  vapour  spreads, 

"J^here  wlicelM  about  the  point  a  cn-cle  of  lire, 

More  raj)!*!  tlian  the  motion,  whieli  first  girds 

The  world.     Then,  circle  after  circle,  round 

Enring'd  each  other  ;  till  the  seventh  reach'd  25 

Circumference  so  ample,  that  its  bow, 

Within  the  span  of  Juno's  messenger. 

Had  scarce  been  held  entire.     Beyond  the  sev'nth, 

Follow'd  yet  other  two.     And  every  one, 

As  more  in  number  distant  from  the  first,  30 

Was  tardier  in  motion  ;  and  that  glow'd 

With  flame  most  pure,  that  to  the  sparkle'  of  truth 

Was  nearest,  as  }»artalving  most,  methinks, 

Of  its  reality.     The  guide  belov'd 

Saw  me  in  anxious  thought  suspense,  and  spake  :  35 

"  Heav'n,  and  all  nature,  hangs  upon  that  point. 

The  circle  thereto  most  conjoin'd  observe  ; 

And  know,  that  by  intenser  love  its  course 

Is  to  this  swiftness  wing'd."     To  whom  I  thus : 

"  It  were  enough  ;  nor  should  I  further  seek,  40 

Flad  I  but  witness'd  order,  in  the  world 

Appointed,  such  as  in  these  wheels  is  seen. 

But  in  the  sensible  world  such  diff'rence  is, 

That  is  each  round  shows  more  divinity, 

As  each  is  wider  from  the  centre.     Hence,  45 

If  in  this  Avondrous  and  angelic  temple, 

That  hath  for  confine  only  light  and  love, 

]\Iy  wish  may  have  completion  I  must  know. 

Wherefore  such  disagreement  is  between 

Th'  exemplar  and  its  copy  :  for  myself,  50 

Contemplating,  I  fail  to  pierce  the  cause." 

"  It  is  no  marvel,  if  thy  fingers  foil'd 
Do  leave  the  knot  untied :  so  hard't  is  grown 
For  want  of  tenting."     Thus  she  said  :  "  But  take," 
She  added,  "  if  thou  Avish  thy  cure,  my  Avords,  55 

And  entertain  them  subtly.     Every  orb 
Cor])oreal,  doth  proportion  its  extent 
Unto  the  virtue  through  its  parts  diffus'd. 
The  greater  blessedness  preserves  the  more. 
The  greater  is  the  body  (if  all  parts  60 


t'ARADISE.  341 

Share  equally)  the  more  is  to  preserve. 

Therefore  the  circle,  whose  swift  course  en  wheels 

Tlie  universal  frame  answers  to  that, 

Which  is  supreme  in  knowle(li:;o  and  in  love 

Thus  by  the  virtue,  not  the  seeming  breadth  65 

Of  substance,  measure,  thou  shalt  see  the  heav'ns, 

I       Each  to  the'  intelligence  that  ruletli  it, 

j       Greater  to  more,  and  smaller  unto  less, 
Suited  in  strict  and  wondrous  harmony." 

As  when  the  sturdy  north  blows  from  his  cheek         70 

i       A  blast,  that  scours  the  sky,  forthwith  our  air, 

(       Clear'd  of  the  rack,  that  hung  on  it  before, 
Glitters ;  and,  with  his  beauties  all  unveil'd, 
The  firmament  looks  forth  serene,  and  smiles; 
Such  was  my  cheer,  when  Beatrice  drove  75 

I       With  clear  reply  the  shadows  back,  and  truth 

!       Was  manifested,  as  a  star  in  heaven. 

{      And  when  the  words  were  ended,  not  unlike 

I       To  iron  in  the  furnace,  every  cirque 

I      Ebullient  shot  forth  scintillating  fires  :  80 

I      And  every  sparkle  shivering  to  new  blaze, 

;      In  number  did  outmillion  the  account 

'       Reduplicate  u])on  the  chequer'd  board. 

Then  heard  I  echoing  on  from  choir  to  choir, 

[      "  Hosanna,"  to  the  fixed  point,  fliat  holds,  85 

;      And  shall  for  ever  hold  them  to  their  place. 
From  everlasting,  irremovable. 

;  Musing  awhile  I  stood :  and  she,  who  saw 

My  inward  meditations,  thus  began  : 
"  In  the  first  circles,  they,  whom  thou  beheldst,  90 

Are  seraphim  and  cherubim.     Thus  swift 

■      Follow  their  hoops,  in  likeness  to  the  point, 
Near  as  they  can,  approaching;  and  they  can 
The  more,  the  loftier  their  vision.     Those, 
That  round  them  fleet,  gazing  the  Godhead  next,  95 

Are  thrones ;  in  whom  the  first  trine  ends.     And  all 
Are  blessed,  even  as  their  sight  descends 
Deeper  into  the  truth,  wherein  rest  is 
For  every  mind.     Thus  happiness  hath  root 
In  seeing,  not  in  loA  ing,  which  of  sight  100 


342  PARAPTRE. 

Is  uftcrgrowtli.     And  of  ll\c  seeing  such 

Tlie  meed,  as  unto  each  in  due  degree 

Grace  and  good-will  their  measure  liave  assign'd. 

The  other  trine,  that  with  still  opening  buds 

In  this  eternal  springtide  blossom  fair,  106 

Fearless  of  bruising  from  the  nightly  ram, 

Breathe  up  in  warbled  melodies  threefold 

Ilosannas  blending  ever,  from  the  three 

Transmitted,  hierarchy  of  gods,  for  aye 

Rejoicing,  dominations  first,  next  then  110 

Virtues,  and  powers  the  third.     The  next  to  whom 

Are  princedoms  and  archangels,  with  glad  round 

To  tread  their  festal  ring;  and  hast  tlie  band 

Angelical,  disporting  in  their  sphere. 

All,  as  they  circle  in  their  orders,  look  115 

Aloft,  and  downward  with  such  sway  prevail, 

That  all  with  mutual  impulse  tend  to  God. 

These  once  a  mortal  view  beheld.     Desire 

In  Dionysius  so  intently  wrought, 

That  he,  as  I  have  done  rang'd  them  ;  and  nam'd          120 

Their  orders,  marshal'd  in  his  thought.     From  him 

Dissentient,  one  ref  us'd  his  sacred  read. 

But  soon  as  in  this  heav'n  his  doubting  eyes 

Were  open'd,  Gregory  at  his  error  smil'd 

Nor  marvel,  that  a  denizen  of  earth  125 

Should  scan  such  secret  truth  ;  for  he  had  learnt 

Both  this  and  much  beside  of  these  our  orbs, 

From  an  eye-witness  to  heav'n's  mysteries." 


CANTO  XXIX. 

No  longer  than  what  time  Latona's  twins 

Cover'd  of  Libra  and  the  fleecy  star. 

Together  both,  girding  the'  horizon  hang, 

In  even  balance  from  the  zenith  pois'd. 

Till  from  that  verge,  each,  changing  hemisphere, 

Part  the  nice  level ;  e'en  so  brief  a  space 

Did  Beatrice's  silence  hold.     A  smile 

Sat  painted  on  her  cheek ;  and  her  fix'd  gaze 


PARADTSK.  343 

Bent  on  the  point,  nt  wliicli  my  vision  f.ail'd  : 

When  thus  her  words  resuming-  slie  began :  10 

"  I  speak,  nor  M'liat  tliou  wouhlst  inquire  demand  ; 

For  I  have  mark'd  it,  wliere  all  time  :Mid  place 

Are  pi'esent.     Not  for  increase  to  himself 

Of  good,  which  may  not  be  increas'd,  but  forth 

To  manifest  his  glory  by  its  beams,  16 

Inhabiting  his  own  eternity, 

Beyond  time's  limit  or  what  bound  soe'er 

To  circumscribe  his  being,  as  he  will'd, 

Into  new  natures,  like  unto  himself, 

Eternal  Love  unfolded.     Nor  before,  20 

As  if  in  dull  inaction  torpid  lay. 

For  not  in  process  of  before  or  aft 

Upon  these  waters  mov'd  the  Spirit  of  God. 

Simple  and  mix'd,  both  form  and  substance,  forth 

To  perfect  being  started,  like  three  darts  25 

Shot  from  a  bow  three-corded.     And  as  ray 

In  crystal,  glass,  and  amber,  shines  entire, 

E'en  at  the  moment  of  its  issuing ;  thus 

Did,  from  th'  eternal  Sovran,  beam  entire 

His  threefold  operation,  at  one  act  30 

Produc'd  coeval.     Yet  in  order  each 

Created  his  due  station  knew :  those  highest. 

Who  pure  intelligence  w^ere  made  :  mere  power 

The  lowest :  in  the  midst,  bound  with  strict  league, 

Intelligence  and  power,  unsever'd  bond.  35 

Long  tract  of  ages  by  the  angels  past. 

Ere  the  creating  of  another  world, 

Describ'd  on  Jerome's  pages  thou  hast  seen. 

But  that  what  I  disclose  to  thee  is  true. 

Those  penmen,  whom  the  Holy  Spirit  mov'd  40 

In  many  a  passage  of  their  sacred  book 

Attest ;  as  thou  by  diligent  search  shalt  find 

And  reason  in  some  sort  discerns  the  same. 

Who  scarce  would  grant  the  heav'nly  ministers 

Of  their  perfection  void,  so  long  a  space.  45 

Thus  when  and  Avhere  these  s]iirits  of  love  were  made, 

Thou  know'st,  and  how  :  and  knowing  hast  allay'd 

Thy  thirst,  which  from  the  trij^le  question  rose. 


+ 


344  PAUADIRK. 

Krc  one  liad  rcckon'd  twenty,  e'en  so  soon 

P:u-t  of  tlie  angels  fell :  and  in  their  fall  50 

Confusion  to  your  elements  ensued. 

The  others  kept  thek-  station  :  and  this  task, 

Whereon  thou  lookst,  began  with  such  delight, 

That  they  surcease  not  ever,  day  nor  night. 

Their  circling.     Of  that  fatal  lapse  the  cause  05 

Was  the  curst  pride  of  him,  whom  thou  hast  seen 

Pent  with  the  world's  incumbrance.     Those,  whom  here 

Thou  seest,  were  lowly  to  confess  themselves 

Of  his  free  bounty,  who  had  made  them  apt 

For  ministries  so  high  :  therefore  their  views  GO 

Were  by  enlight'ning  grace  and  their  own  merit 

Exalted ;  so  that  in  their  will  confirm'd 

Tiiey  stand,  nor  fear  to  fall.     For  do  not  doubt. 

But  to  receive  the  grace,  which  heav'n  vouchsafes, 

Is  meritorious,  even  as  the  soul  05 

With  prompt  affection  Avelcometh  the  guest. 

Kow,  without  further  help,  if  with  good  heed 

]\Iy  words  thy  mind  have  treasur'd,  thou  henceforth 

This  consistory  round  about  mayst  scan. 

And  gaze  thy  fill.     But  since  thou  hast  on  earth  70 

Pleard  vain  disputers,  reasoners  in  the  schools, 

Canvas  the'  angelic  nature,  and  dispute 

Its  powers  of  apprehension,  memory,  choice  ; 

Therefore,  't  is  well  thou  take  from  me  the  truth, 

Pure  and  without  disguise,  which  they  below,  75 

Equivocating,  darken  and  perplex. 

"  Know  thou,  that,  from  the  first,  these  substances, 
Rejoicing  in  the  countenance  of  God, 
Have  held  unceasingly  their  view,  intent 
Upon  the  glorious  vision,  from  the  which  80 

Naught  absent  is  nor  hid  :  Avhere  then  no  change 
Of  newness  with  succeesion  interruiJts, 
Peniembrance  there  needs  none  to  gather  up 
Divided  thought  and  images  remote. 

"  So  tliat  men,  thus  at  variance  with  the  truth  85 

Dream,  though  their  eyes  be  open ;  reckless  some 
Of  error  ;  others  well  aware  they  err. 
To  whom  more  guilt  and  shame  are  justly  due. 


PARADISIC,  345 

Each  tlie  known  track  of  sai^e  pliilosophy 

Deserts,  and  lias  a  l)yway  of  l)is  own  :  90 

80  inucli  tlie  restless  eaj^crness  to  shine 

And  love  of  singularity  prevail.  # 

Yet  this,  offensive  as  it  is,  provokes 

Ileav'n's  anger  less,  than  when  the  book  of  God 

Is  forc'd  to  yield  to  man's  authority,  95 

Or  from  its  sti'aightness  Avarp'd  :  no  reck'ning  made 

What  blood  the  sowing  of  it  in  tlie  world 

Has  cost ;  what  favour  for  himself  he  wins, 

Who  meekly  clings  to  it.     The  aim  of  all 

Is  how  to  shine  :  e'en  they,  whose  office  is  100 

To  preach  the  Gospel,  let  the  gospel  sleep, 

And  pass  their  own  inventions  off  instead. 

One  tells,  how  at  Christ's  suffering  the  wan  moon 

Bent  back  her  steps,  and  shadow'd  o'er  the  sun 

With  intervenient  disk,  as  she  -withdrew  :  105 

Another,  how  the  light  shrouded  itself 

Within  its  tabernacle,  and  left  dark 

The  Spaniard  and  the  Indian,  with  the  Jew. 

Such  fables  Florence  in  her  pulpit  hears. 

Bandied  about  more  frequent,  than  the  names  110 

Of  Bindi  and  of  Lapi  in  her  streets. 

The  sheep,  meanwhile,  poor  witless  ones,  return 

From  pasture,  fed  with  wind :  and  what  avails 

For  their  excuse,  they  do  not  see  their  harm  ? 

Christ  said  not  to  his  first  conventicle,  115 

'  Go  forth  and  preach  impostures  to  the  world,' 

But  gave  them  truth  to  build  on  ;  and  the  sound 

Was  mighty  on  their  lips;  nor  needed  they, 

Beside  the  gospel,  other  spear  or  shield. 

To  aid  them  in  their  warfare  for  the  faith.  120 

''file  ])reacher  now  provides  himself  with  store 

Of  jests  and  gibes  ;  and,  so  there  be  no  lack 

Of  laughter,  while  he  Agents  them,  his  big  cowl 

Distends,  and  he  has  won  the  meed  he  sought : 

Could  but  the  vulgar  catch  a  glimpse  the  while  125 

Of  that  dark  bird  which  nestles  in  his  hood, 

They  scarce  would  wait  to  hear  the  blessing  said. 

Which  now  the  dotards  lioM  in  such  esteem, 


I 

346  rARAmsE. 

That  ovory  coiintorfoit,  who  spronrls  a1)roafl 

The  hands  of  holy  ]iroinise,  finds  n  throng  130 

Of  credulous  fools  beneath.     Haint  Anthony 

Fattens  with  this  liis  swine,  and  others  worse 

Than  swine,  wlio  diet  at  his  lazy  board, 

Paying  with  unstamp'd  metal  for  their  fare. 

"  ])ut  (for  we  far  have  wander'd)  let  us  seek  -  135 

The  forward  path  again  ;  so  as  the  way 
Be  shorten'd  with  the  time.     No  mortal  tongue 
Nor  thought  of  man  hath  ever  reach'd  so  far, 
That  of  these  natures  he  might  count  the  tribes. 
What  Daniel  of  their  thousands  hath  reveal'd  140 

With  finite  number  infinite  conceals. 
The  fountain  at  whose  source  these  drink  their  beams, 
With  light  sujiplies  them  in  as  many  modes, 
As  there  are  splendours,  that  it  shines  on  :  each 
According  to  the  virtue  it  conceives,  145 

Differing  in  love  and  sweet  affection. 
Look  then  how  lofty  and  how  huge  in  breadth 
The'  eternal  might,  which,  broken  and  disjjers'd 
Over  such  countless  mirrors,  yet  remains 
Whole  in  itself  and  one,  as  at  the  first."  150 

CANTO  XXX. 

Noon's  fervid  hour  perchance  six  thousand  miles 

From  hence  is  distant ;  and  the  shadowy  cone 

Almost  to  level  on  our  earth  declines; 

When  from  the  midmost  of  this  blue  abyss 

By  turns  some  star  is  to  our  vision  lost.  5 

And  straightway  as  the  handmaid  of  the  sun 

Puts  forth  her  radiant  brow,  all,  light  by  light. 

Fade,  and  the  spangled  firmament  shuts  in. 

E'en  to  the  loveliest  of  the  glittering  throng. 

Thus  vanish'd  gi-adually  from  my  sight  10 

The  triumph,  which  plays  ever  round  the  jDoint, 

That  overcame  me,  seeming  (for  it  did) 

Engirt  by  that  it  girdeth.     Wherefore  love, 

With  loss  of  other  object,  forc'd  me  bend. 


PAKADTSE.  347 

Mine  c-yos  on  TJoatrice  once  agnin.  15 

If  all,  that  hitherto  is  told  of  her, 
Were  in  one  piaise  concluded,  't  were  too  weak 
To  furnish  out  this  turn.     Mine  eyes  did  look 
On  beauty,  such,  as  I  believe  in  sooth, 
Not  merely  to  exceed  our  human,  but,  20 

That  save  its  Maker,  none  can  to  the  full 
Enjoy  it.     At  this  ]ioint  o'erpower'd  I  fail, 
Unequal  to  my  theme,  as  never  bard 
Of  buskin  or  of  sock  hath  fail'd  before. 
For,  as  the  sun  doth  to  the  feeblest  sight,  25 

E'en  so  remembrance  of  that  witching  smile 
Hath  dispossest  my  spirit  of  itself. 
Not  from  that  day,  when  on  this  earth  I  first 
Beheld  her  charms,  up  to  that  view  of  them, 
Have  I  with  song  ap]ilausive  ever  ceas'd  30 

To  follow,  but  not  follow  them  no  more ; 
My  course  here  bounded,  as  each  artist's  is. 
When  it  doth  touch  the  limit  of  his  skill. 

She  (such  as  I  bequeath  her  to  the  bruit 
Of  louder  trump  than  mine,  which  hasteneth  on,  35 

Urging  its  arduous  matter  to  the  close), 
Her  words  resum'd,  in  gesture  and  in  voice 
Resembling  one  accustom'd  to  command  : 
"  Foi'th  from  the  last  corporeal  are  we  come 
Into  the  heav'n,  that  is  unbodied  light,  40 

Light  intellectual  replete  with  love. 
Love  of  true  happiness  replete  with  joy, 
Joy,  that  transcends  all  sweetness  of  delight. 
Here  shalt  thou  look  on  either  mighty  host 
Of  Paradise;  and  one  in  that  array,  45 

Which  in  the  final  judgment  thou  shalt  see." 

As  when  the  lightning,  in  a  sudden  spleen 
Unfolded,  dashes  from  the  blinding  eyes 
The  visive  spirits  dazzled  and  bedimm'd  ; 
So,  round  about  me,  fulminating  streams  60 

Of  living  radiance  play'd,  and  left  me  swath'd 
And  veil'd  in  dense  impenetrable  blaze. 
Such  weal  is  in  the  love,  that  stills  this  heav'n; 
For  its  own  flame  the  torch  this  fitting  ever  ! 


348  I'AllADTSE. 

No  sooner  to  my  list'nin<]f  oar  had  come  55 

The  brief  assurance,  than  I  understood 
New  virtue  into  me  infus'd,  and  sit:;lit 
Kindled  afresh,  with  vigour  to  sustain 
Excess  of  liglit,  liowever  j)ure.     I  look'd  ; 
And  in  tlie  likeness  of  a  river  saw  CO 

]jight  flowing,  fi'om  whoso  amber-seeming  waves 
Flash'd  up  effidgence,  as  they  glided  on 
'Twixt  baid<s,  on  either  side,  i)ainted  with  spring, 
Incredible  liow  fair;  and,  from  the  tide, 
There  ever  and  anon,  outstarting,  flow  65 

Sparkles  instinct  with  life  ;  and  in  the  flow'rs 
Did  set  them,  like  to  rubies  chas'd  in  gold  ; 
Then,  as  if  drunk  with  odors,  plung'd  again 
Into  the  wondrous  flood;  fi-om  which,  as  one 
Re'enter'd,  still  another  rose.     "The  thirst  70 

Of  knowledge  high,  whereby  thou  art  inflam'd. 
To  search  the  meaning  of  what  here  thou  seest, 
The  more  it  warms  thee,  pleases  me  the  more. 
But  first  behoves  thee  of  this  water  drink, 
Or  ere  that  longing  be  allay'd."     So  spake  75 

The  day-star  of  mine  eyes  ;  then  thus  subjoin'd  : 
"  This  stream,  and  these,  forth  issuing  from  its  gulf, 
And  diving  back,  a  living  topaz  each, 
With  all  this  laughter  on  its  bloomy  shores. 
Are  but  a  preface,  shadowy  of  the  truth  80 

They  emblem:  not  that,  in  themselves,  the  things 
Are  crude  ;  but  on  thy  part  is  the  defect, 
For  that  thy  views  not  yet  aspire  so  high." 
Never  did  babe,  that  had  outslept  his  wont. 
Rush,  Avith  such  eager  straining,  to  the  milk,  85 

As  I  toward  the  water,  bending  me. 
To  make  the  better  mirrors  of  mine  eyes 
In  the  refining  wave  ;  and,  as  the  eaves 
Of  mine  eyelids  did  drink  of  it,  forthwith 
Seem'd  it  unto  mo  turn'd  from  length  to  round.  90 

Then  as  a  troop  of  maskers,  when  they  put 
Their  vizors  off,  look  other  than  before. 
The  counterfeited  semblance  thrown  aside ; 
So  into  greater  jubilee  were  chang'd 


■~-^ 


PARADISE.  349 

Tliosc  flowers  nnd  sparkles,  and  distinct  I  saw  05 

Before  me  either  court  of  lieav'n  dis])lay'd. 

O  prime  enlightcner  !  thou  wlio  gav'st  mc  strength 
On  the  hii,di  triumph  of  thy  realm  to  gaze  ! 
Grant  virtue  now  to  utter  what  I  kenn'd, 

There  is  in  heav'n  a  light,  whose  goodly  shine  100 

Makes  the  Creator  visible  to  all 
Created,  that  in  seeing  him  alone 
Have  peace ;  and  in  a  circle  spreads  so  far, 
That  the  circumf'rence  were  too  loose  a  zone 
To  girdle  in  the  sun.     All  is  one  beam,  105 

lletlected  from  the  summit  of  the  first, 
That  moves,  which  being  hence  and  vigour  takes, 
And  as  some  cliff,  that  from  the  bottom  eyes 
Its  image  mirror'd  in  the  crystal  flood, 
As  if  't  admire  its  brave  appareling  110 

Of  verdure  and. of  flowers:  so,  round  about. 
Eyeing  the  light,  on  more  than  million  thrones, 
Stood,  eminent,  whatever  from  our  earth 
Has  to  the  skies  return'd.     How  wide  the  leaves 
Extended  to  their  utmost  of  this  rose,  115 

Whose  lowest  step  embosoms  such  a  space 
Of  ample  radiance  !     Yet,  nor  amplitude 
Nor  height  impeded,  but  my  view  with  ease 
Took  in  the  full  dimensions  of  that  joy. 
Near  or  remote,  what  there  avails,  Avhere  God  120 

Immediate  rules,  and  Nature,  awed,  suspends 
Her  sway?     Into  the  yellow  of  the  rose 
Perennial,  which  in  bright  expansiveness, 
Lays  foi-th  its  gradual  blooming,  redolent 
Of  j)raises  to  the  never-wint'ring  sun,  125 

As  one,  who  fain  would  speak  yet  holds  his  peace, 
Beatrice  led  me  ;  and,  "  Behold,"  she  said, 
"  This  fair  assemblage  !  stoles  of  snowy  white 
How  numberless  !     The  city,  where  we  dwell, 
Bohold  how  vast !  and  these  our  seats  so  throng'd        130 
Few  now  are  wanting  here !     In  that  proud  stall, 
On  wliich,  the  crown,  already  o'er  its  state 
Susj)ended,  holds  thine  eyes — or  ere  thyself 
JVlayst  at  the  wedding  sup, — shall  rest  the  soul 


350 


PAKADISE. 


Of  tlic  great  Harry,  lie  who,  by  the  world  135 

Augustus  hail'd,  to  Italy  mustcoinc, 

Before  her  day  be  rii)e.     But  ye  are  sick, 

And  in  your  tetchy  wantonness  as  blind, 

As  is  the  bantling,  that  of  hunger  dies. 

And  drives  away  the  nurse.     Nor  may  it  be,  140 

That  he,  who  in  the  sacred  forum  sways. 

Openly  or  in  secret,  shall  with  him 

Accordant  walk  :  v/hom  God  will  not  endure 

I'  th'  holy  office  long;  but  thrust  him  down 

To  Simon  Magus,  where  Alagna's  priest  145 

Will  sink  beneath  him :  such  Avill  be  his  meed." 


CANTO  XXXI. 


In  fashion,  as  a  snow-white  rose,  lay  then 

Before  my  view  the  saintly  multitude. 

Which  in  his  own  blood  Christ  espous'd.     Meanwhile 

That  other  host,  that  soar  aloft  to  gaze 

And  celebrate  his  glory,  whom  they  love, 

Hover'd  around  ;  and,  like  a  troop  of  bees, 

Amid  the  vernal  sweets  alighting  now. 

Now,  clustering,  where  their  fragrant  labour  glows, 

Flew  downward  to  the  mighty  flow^'r,  or  rose 

From  the  redundant  petals,  streaming  back 

Unto  the  steadfast  dwelling  of  their  joy. 

Faces  had  they  of  flame,  and  wings  of  gold ; 

The  rest  was  whiter  than  the  driven  snow. 

And  as  they  flitted  down  into  the  flower, 

From  range  to  range,  fanning  their  plumy  loins, 

Whisper'd  the  pea'.-e  and  ardour,  which  they  won 

From  that  soft  winnowing.     Shadow  none,  the  vast 

Interposition  of  such  numerous  flight 

Cast,  from  above,  upon  the  flower,  or  view 

Obstructed  aught.     For,  through  the  universe,  20 

Wherever  merited,  celestial  light 

Glides  freely,  and  no  obstacle  prevents. 

All  there,  who  reign  in  safety  and  in  bliss, 
Ages  long  past  or  new,  on  one  sole  mark 


10 


15 


PARADISE.  351 

Their  love  and  vision  fix'd.     O  trinal  beam  25 

Of  individual  star,  that  channst  them  tlius, 
Vouchsafe  one  glance  to  gild  our  storm  below ! 

If  the  grim  brood,  from  Arctic  shores  that  roaio'd, 
(Where  Helice,  forever,  as  she  wheels, 
Sparkles  a  mother's  fondness  on  her  son)  30       i 

Stood  in  mute  wonder  'mid  the  works  of  Rome, 
Wlien  to  their  view  the  Latcran  arose 
In  greatness  more  than  earthly ;  I,  who  then  , 

From  human  to  divine  had  past,  from  time 
Unto  eternity,  and  out  of  Florence  85 

To  justice  and  to  truth,  how  might  I  choose 
But  marvel  too  ?     'Twixt  gladness  and  amaze, 
In  sooth  no  will  had  I  to  utter  aught. 
Or  hear.     And,  as  a  pilgrim,  when  he  rests 
Within  the  temple  of  his  vow,  looks  round  40 

In  breathless  awe,  and  hopes  some  time  to  tell 
Of  all  its  goodly  state :  e'en  so  mine  eyes 
Coiirs'd  up  and  down  along  the  living  light, 
Now  low,  and  now  aloft,  and  now  around, 
Visiting  every  step.     Looks  I  beheld,  45 

Where  charity  in  soft  persuasion  sat. 
Smiles  from  within  and  radiance  from  above, 
And  in  each  gesture  grace  and  honour  high. 

So  rov'd  my  ken,  and  its  general  form 
All  Paradise  survey'd  :  when  round  I  turn'd  50 

With  purpose  of  my  lady  to  inquire 
Once  more  of  things,  that  held  my  thought  suspense, 
But  answer  found  from  other  than  I  ween'd  ; 
For,  Beatrice,  when  I  thought  to  see, 
I  saw  instead  a  senior,  at  my  side,  55 

Kob'd,  as  the  rest,  in  glory.     Joy  benign 
Glow'd  in  his  eye,  and  o'er  his  clieek  diffus'd, 
With  gestures  such  as  spake  a  father's  love. 
And,  "  Whither  is  she  vanish'd  ?  "  straight  I  ask'd. 

"  By  Beatrice  summon'd,"  he  replied,  60 

"I  come  to  aid  thy  wish.     Looking  aloft 
To  the  third  circle  from  the  highest,  there 
Behold  her  on  the  throne,  Avherein  her  merit 
Hath  plac'd  her."     Answering  not,  mine  eyes  I  rais'd, 


352  PARADISE. 

And  saw  licr,  wlicre  aloof  she  sat,  lier  brow  65 

A  wreath  reflecting  of  eternal  beams. 

Not  from  the  centre  of  the  sea  so  far 

Unto  the  region  of  the  highest  thunder, 

As  was  my  ken  from  hers  ;  and  yet  tlie  form 

Came  through  that  medium  down,  unniix'd  and  pure,  70 

"  O  Lady  !  thou  in  whom  my  hojies  have  rest ! 
Who,  for  my  safety,  hast  not  scorn'd,  in  hell 
To  leave  the  traces  of  thy  footsteps  raark'd ! 
For  all  mine  eyes  liave  seen,  I,  to  thy  power 
And  goodness,  virtue  owe  and  grace.     Of  slave,  75 

Thou  hast  to  freedom  brought  me  ;  and  no  means, 
For  my  deliverance  ajit,  hast  left  untried. 
Thy  liberal  bounty  still  toward  me  keep. 
That,  when  my  spirit,  v/hich  thou  madest  whole, 
Is  loosee'd  from  this  body,  it  may  find  80 

Favour  with  thee."     So  I  my  suit  preferr'd : 
And  she,  so  distant,  as  appear'd,  look'd  down. 
And  smil'd ;  then  tow'rds  th'  eternal  fountain  turn'd. 

And  thus  the  senior,  holy  and  rever'd  : 
"  That  thou  at  length  mayst  hajipily  conclude  85 

Thy  voyage  (to  which  end  I  was  despatch'd, 
By  supplication  raov'd  and  holy  love) 
Let  thy  upsoaring  vision  range,  at  large, 
This  garden  through :  for  so,  by  ray  divine 
Kindled,  thy  ken  a  higher  flight  shall  mount ;  90 

And  from  heav'n's  queen,  whom  fervent  I  adore. 
All  gracious  aid  befriend  us  ;  for  that  I 
Am  her  own  faithful  Bernard."     Like  a  wight, 
Who  haply  from  Croatia  wends  to  see 
Our  Veronica,  and  the  while  't  is  shown,  95 

Hangs  over  it  with  never-sated  gaze. 
And,  all  that  he  hath  heard  revolving,  saith 
Unto  himself  in  thought :  "And  didst  thou  look 
E'en  thus,  O  Jesus,  my  true  Lord  and  God  ? 
And  was  this  semblance  thine  ?"     So  gaz'd  I  then      100 
Adoring  ;  for  the  charity  of  him. 
Who  mushig,  in  the  world  that  peace  enjoy'd. 
Stood  livelily  before  me.     "  Child  of  grace  !  " 
Thus  he  began  :  "  thou  shalt  not  knowledge  gain 

iiiiiiiin, ,111. ^^ —    ,  .^^-.a^.-  :  . rt^  nil    irniinrjtitii 


PAllAOISE.  353 

Of  this  glad  being,  if  thine  eyes  are  held  105 

Still  in  this  dej)th  below.     But  search  around 

The  circles,  to  the  furthest,  till  thou  spy 

Seated  in  state,  the  queen,  that  of  this  realm 

Is  sovran."     Straight  mine  eyes  I  rais'd  ;  and  bright, 

As,  at  the  birth  of  morn,  the  eastern  clime  310 

Above  th'  horizon,  where  the  sun  declines  ; 

So  to  mine  eyes,  that  upward,  as  from  vale 

To  moxnitain  sped,  at  th'  extreme  bound,  a  part 

Excell'd  in  lustre  all  the  front  oppos'd. 

And  as  the  glow  burns  ruddiest  o'er  the  wave,  115 

That  waits  the  sloping  beam,  which  Phaeton 

111  kncAV  to  guide,  and  on  each  part  the  light 

Diminish'd  fades,  intensest  in  the  midst ; 

So  burn'd  the  peaceful  oriflamb,  and  slack'd 

On  every  side  the  living  flame  decay'd.  120 

And  in  that  midst  their  sportive  pennons  wav'd 

Thousands  of  angels  ;  in  resplendence  each 

Distinct,  and  quaint  adornment.     At  their  glee 

And  carol,  smil'd  the  Lovely  One  of  heav'n, 

That  joy  was  in  the  eyes  of  all  the  blest.  126 

Had  I  a  tongue  in  eloquence  as  rich, 
As  is  the  colouring  in  fancy's  loom, 
'T  were  all  too  poor  to  utter  the  least  part 
Of  that  enchantment.     When  he  saw  mine  eyes 
Intent  on  her,  that  charm'd  him,  Bernard  gaz'd  130 

With  so  exceeding  fondness,  as  infus'd 
Ardour  into  my  breast,  unfelt  before. 


CANTO  XXXII. 

Freely  the  sage,  though  wrapt  in  musings  high, 
Assum'd  the  teacher's  j)art,  and  mild  began  : 
"  The  wound,  that  INfary  clos'd,  she  o])en'd  first, 
Who  sits  so  beautiful  at  Mary's  feet. 
The  third  in  order,  underneath  hei',  lo  ! 
Rachel  with  Beatrice.     Sarah  next, 
Judith,  Rebecca,  and  the  gleaner  maid, 
Meek  ancestress  of  him,  who  sang  the  songs 

23 


354  PAUADISE. 

Of  sore  ropontancc  in  liis  sorrowful  mood. 
All,  as  I  name  them,  down  from  leaf  to  leaf,  10 

Ai"e  in  gradation  throned  on  the  rose. 
And  frum  the  seventh  step,  successively, 
Adown  the  breathing  tresses  of  the  flow'r 
Still  doth  the  tile  of  Hebrew  dames  proceed. 
For  these  are  a  partition  wall,  whereby  15 

The  sacred  stairs  are  sever'd,  as  the  faith 
In  Christ  divides  them.     On  this  part,  where  blooms 
Each  leaf  in  full  maturity,  are  set 
Such  as  in  Christ,  or  ere  he  came,  believ'd. 
On  th'  other,  where  an  intersected  space  20 

Yet  shows  the  semicircle  void,  abide 
All  they,  who  look'd  to  Christ  already  come. 
And  as  our  Lady  on  her  glorious  stool. 
And  they  who  on  their  stools  beneath  her  sit, 
This  way  distinction  make :  e'en  so  on  his,  25 

The  mighty  Baptist  that  way  marks  the  line 
(He  who  endur'd  the  desart  and  the  pains 
Of  martyrdom,  and  for  two  years  of  hell, 
Yet  still  continued  holy),  and  beneath, 
Augustin,  Francis,  Benedict,  and  the  rest,  30 

Thus  far  from  round  to  round.     So  heav'u's  decree 
Forecasts,  this  garden  equally  to  fill. 
With  faith  in  either  view,  jiast  or  to  come, 
Learn  too,  that  downward  from  the  step,  which  cleaves 
Midw^ay  the  twain  compartments,  none  there  are  35 

Who  place  obtain  for  merit  of  their  own, 
But  have  through  others'  merit  been  advanc'd, 
On  set  conditions  :  spirits  all  releas'd, 
Ere  for  themselves  they  had  the  power  to  choose. 
And,  if  thou  mark  and  listen  to  them  well,  40 

Their  childish  looks  and  voice  declare  as  much. 
"  Here,  silent  as  thou  art,  I  know  thy  doubt ; 
And  gladly  will  I  locse  the  knot,  wherein 
Thy  subtil  thoughts  have  bound  thee.     From  this  realm 
Excluded,  chance  no  entrance  here  may  find,  45 

No  more  than  hunger,  thirst,  or  sorrow  can. 
A  law  immutable  hath  stablish'd  all; 
Noi"  is  there  aught  thou  seest,  that  doth  not  fit, 


PAUAUISE.  355 

Exactly,  as  the  finger  to  the  ring. 

It  is  not  tlierefore  without  cause,  tliat  these,  50 

0'ers]ieefly  comers  to  iiiunortal  life, 

Are  different  in  their  shares  of  excellence. 

Our  Sovran  Lord — that  settleth  this  estate 

In  love  and  in  deliijht  so  absolute, 

That  wish  can  dare  no  further — every  soul,  55 

Created  in  his  joyous  sight  to  dwell. 

With  grace  at  pleasure  variously  endows. 

And  for  a  proof  th'  effect  may  well  suffice. 

And  't  is  moreover  most  expressly  mark'd 

In  holy  scripture,  where  the  twins  are  said  60 

T'  have  struggled  in  the  womb.     Therefore,  as  grace 

Inweaves  the  coronet,  so  every  brow 

Weareth  its  proper  hue  of  orient  light. 

And  merely  in  respect  to  his  prime  gift, 

Not  in  reward  of  meritorious  deed,  65 

Hath  each  his  several  degree  assign'd. 

In  early  times  with  their  own  innocence 

More  was  not  wanting,  than  the  parents'  faith, 

To  save  them :  those  first  ages  past,  behov'd. 

That  circumcision  in  the  males  should  imp  70 

The  flight  of  innocent  Avings  :  but  since  the  day 

Of  grace  hath  come,  without  baptismal  rites 

In  Christ  accomplish'd,  innocence  herself 

Must  linger  yet  below.     Now  raise  thy  view 

Unto  the  visage  most  resembling  Christ :  75 

For,  in  her  splendour  only,  shalt  thou  win 

The  pow'r  to  look  on  him."     Forthwith  I  saw 

Such  floods  of  gladness  on  her  visage  shower'd, 

From  holy  spirits,  winging  that  profound  ; 

That,  whatsoever  I  had  yet  beheld,  80 

Had  not  so  much  suspended  me  with  wonder, 

Or  shown  nie  such  similitude  of  God. 

And  he,  who  had  to  her  descended,  once. 

On  earth,  now  haiPd  in  heav'n  ;  and  on  pois'd  wing, 

"  Ave,  Maria,  Gratia  Plena,"  sang  :  85 

To  whose  sweet  anthem  all  the  blissful  court. 

From  all  parts  answ'ring,  rang  :  tliat  holier  joy 

Brooded  the  deej)  serene.     "  Father  rever'd  : 


356  PAKADISE. 

Wlio  (loli:c'i'«t5  foi"  "i^^j  ^o  quit  tlie  pleasant  i)lace, 

AVhoroinlliou  sittcst,  l)y  eternal  k)t !  90 

Say,  who  that  angel  is,  that  with  sueh  glee 

Jk'liolds  our  ({ueen,  and  so  enaniour'd  glows 

Of  her  high   beauty,  that  all  fire  he  seems." 

So  I  again  resorted  to  the  loi-e 

Of  niy  wise  teacher,  he,  whom  Mary's  charms  95 

Embellisli'd,  as  the  sun  the  moiMiing  star; 

Who  thus  in  answer  spake  :  "In  him  are  sumra'd, 

Wliate'er  of  buxomness  and  free  delight 

May  be  in  spirit,  or  in  angel,  met: 

And  so  beseems  :  for  that  he  bare  the  paha  100 

Down  unto  Mary,  when  the  Son  of  God 

Vouchsaf  d  to  clothe  him  in  terrestrial  weeds. 

Now  let  thine  eyes  wait  heedful  on  my  words, 

And  note  thou  of  this  just  and  ])ious  realm 

The  chiefest  nobles.     Those,  highest  in  bliss,  105 

The  twain,  on  each  hand  next  our  empress  thron'd, 

Are  as  it  M'ere  two  roots  unto  this  rose. 

He  to  the  left,  the  parent,  whose  rash  taste 

Proves  bitter  to  liis  seed  ;  and,  on  the  right, 

That  ancient  father  of  the  holy  church,  110 

Into  whose  keeping  Christ  did  give  the  keys 

Of  this  sweet  flow'r :  near  whom  behold  the  seer. 

That,  ere  he  died,  saw  all  the  grievous  times 

Of  the  fair  bride,  who  wdth  the  lance  and  nails 

Was  won.     And,  near  unto  the  other,  rests  115 

The  leader,  imder  whom  on  manna  fed 

Th'  ungrateful  nation,  fickle  and  perverse. 

On  th'  other  part,  facing  to  Peter,  lo  ! 

Where  Anna  sits,  so  well  content  to  look 

On  her  lov'd  daughter,  that  with  moveless  eye  120 

She  chants  the  loud  hosanna :  while,  oppos'd. 

To  the  first  father  of  your  mortal  kind, 

Is  Lucia,  at  whose  best  thy  lady  s])ed, 

When  on  the  edge  of  ruin  clos'd  thine  eye. 

"  But  (for  the  vision  hasteneth  so  an  end)  125 

Here  break  we  off,  as  the  good  workman  doth. 
That  shapes  the  cloak  according  to  the  cloth  : 
And  to  the  primal  love  our  ken  shall  rise ; 


PARADISE.  357 

That  tliou  mayst  penetrate  tlie  brightness,  far 

As  sight  can  bear  tliee.     Yet,  ahxs  !  in  sootli  130 

Beating  thy  pennons,  thinking  to  advance, 

Thou  backward  fall'st.     Grace  then  must  first  be  gain'd  ; 

Her  grace,  wliose  niiglit  can  lielp  thee.     Thou  in  2)i-ayer 

Seek  her  :  and,  witli  affection,  whilst  I  sue, 

Attend,  and  yiehl  me  all  thy  heart."     He  said,  135 

And  thus  the  saintly  orison  began. 


CANTO  XXXIII. 

"  O  viRGix  mother,  daughter  of  thy  Son, 

Created  beings  all  in  lowliness 

Surpassing,  as  in  height,  above  them  all, 

Term  by  th'  eternal  counsel  pre-ordain'd, 

Ennobler  of  thy  nature,  so  advanc'd  f 

In  thee,  that  its  great  Maker  did  not  scorn, 

Himself,  in  his  own  work  enclos'd  to  dwell ! 

For  in  thy  womb  rekindling  shone  the  love 

Reveal'd,  whose  genial  influence  makes  now 

This  flower  to  germin  in  eternal  peace  !  10 

Here  thou  to  us,  of  charity  and  love. 

Art,  as  the  noon-day  torch  :  and  art,  beneath. 

To  mortal  men,  of  hope  a  living  spring. 

So  mighty  art  thovi,  lady  !  and  so  great. 

That  he  who  grace  desireth,  and  comes  not  15 

To  thee  for  aidance,  fain  would  have  desire 

Fly  without  wings.     Nor  only  him  who  asks, 

Thy  bounty  succours,  but  doth  freely  oft 

Forerun  the  asking.     Whatsoe'er  may  be 

Of  excellence  in  creature,  pity  mild,  20 

Relenting  mercy,  large  munificence, 

Are  all  combin'd  in  thee.     Here  kneeletli  one. 

Who  of  all  spirits  hath  review'd  the  state, 

From  the  world's  lowest  gap  nnto  this  height. 

Suppliant  to  thee  he  kneels,  imploring  grace  25  • 

For  virtue,  yet  more  high  to  lift  his  ken 

Toward  the  bliss  supreme.     And  I,  who  ne'er 

Coveted  sight,  more  fondly,  for  myself, 


35S  PAKAnisE. 

Than  now  for  liim,  niy  prayers  to  thee  ])rofor, 

(And  ])r:iy  they  be  not  scant)  that  tliou  wuuldst  drive   30 

Each  cloud  of  his  mortality  away  ; 

That  on  the  sovran  ])lcasurc  he  may  gaze. 

This  also  I  entreat  of  thee,  O  queen  ! 

"Who  canst  do  what  thou  wilt !  that  in  him  thou 

Wouldst  after  all  he  liath  beheld,  preserve  35 

Affection  sound,  and  human  passions  quell. 

Lo  !  where,  with  Beatrice,  many  a  saint 

Stretch  their  clasp'd  hands,  in  furtherance  of  my  suit !  " 

The  eyes,  that  heav'n  with  love  and  awe  regards, 
Fix'd  on  the  suitor,  witness'd,  how  benign  40 

She  looks  on  pious  pray'rs  :  then  fasten'd  they 
On  th'  everlasting  light,  wherein  no  eye 
Of  creature,  as  may  well  be  thought,  so  far 
Can  travel  inward.     I,  meanwhile,  who  drew 
Near  to  the  limit,  Avhere  all  wishes  end,  45 

Tlie  ardour  of  my  wish  (for  so  behov'd), 
Ended  within  me.     Beck'ning  smii'd  the  sage, 
That  I  should  look  aloft :  but,  ere  he  bade, 
Already  of  myself  aloft  I  look'd ; 

For  visual  strength,  refining  more  and  more,  60 

Bare  me  into  the  ray  authentical 
Of  sovran  liglit.     Thenceforward,  what  I  saw, 
Was  not  for  words  to  speak,  nor  memory's  self 
To  stand  against  such' outrage  on  her  skill. 
As  one,  who  from  a  dream  awaken'd,  straiglit,  55 

All  he  hath  seen  forgets  ;  yet  still  retains 
Impression  of  the  feeling  in  his  dream  ; 
E'en  such  am  I :  for  all  the  vision  dies, 
As  't  were,  away ;  and  yet  the  sense  of  sweet, 
That  sprang  from  it,  still  trickles  in  my  heart.  60 

Thus  in  the  sun-thaw  is  the  snow  unseal'd  ; 
Thus  in  the  winds  on  flitting  leaves  was  lost 
The  Sybil's  sentence.     O  eternal  beam  ! 
(Whose  lieight  what  reach  of  mortal  thought  may  soar?) 
Yield  me  again  some  little  particle  65 

Of  what  thou  then  appearedst,  give  my  tongue 
Power,  but  to  leave  one  sparkle  of  thy  glory, 
Unto  the  race  to  come,  that  shall  not  lose 


PARAPI8E.  359 

Thy  triumph  wholly,  if  thou  waken  aught 

Of  memory  in  me,  and  endure  to  hear  70 

Tlie  record  sound  in  tliis  unequal  straiu. 

Sucli  keenness  from  the  living  ray  I  met, 
That,  if  mine- eyes  had  turn'd  away,  methinks, 
I  had  been  lost ;  but,  so  embolden'd,  on 
I  pass'd,  as  I  remember,  till  my  view  75 

Ilover'd  the  brink  of  dread  infinitude. 

O  grace  !  unenvying  of  thy  boon  !  that  gav'st 
Boldness  to  fix  so  earnestly  my  ken 
On  th'  everlasting  splendour,  that  I  look'd. 
While  sight  was  unconsum'd,  and,  in  that  depth,  80 

Saw  in  one  volume  clasp'd  of  love,  whate'er 
The  universe  unfolds  ;  all  projierties 
Of  substance  and  of  accident,  beheld, 
Comjiounded,  yet  one  individual  light 
The  whole.     And  of  such  bond  methinks  I  saw  85 

The  universal  form  :  for  that  whene'er 
I  do  but  speak  of  it,  ray  soul  dilates 
Beyond  her  proper  self  ;  and,  till  I  speak, 
One  moment  seems  a  longer  lethai-gy. 
Than  five-and-twenty  ages  had  aj)])ear'd  90 

To  that  emprize,  that  first  made  Neptune  wonder 
At  Argo's  shadow  darkening  on  his  flood. 

With  fixed  heed,  suspense  and  motionless, 
Wondring  I  gaz'd  ;  and  admiration  still 
Was  kindled,  as  I  gaz'd.     It  may  not  be,  95 

Tliat  one,  who  looks  upon  that  light,  can  turn 
To  other  object,  willingly,  his  view. 
For  all  the  good,  that  will  may  co\'et,  there 
Is  summ'd  ;  and  all,  elsewhere  defective  found. 
Complete.     My  tongue  shall  utter  now,  no  more  100 

E'en  what  remembrance  keeps,  than  could  the  babe's 
That  yet  is  moisten'd  at  his  mother's  breast. 
Not  that  the  semblance  of  the  living  light 
Was  chang'd  (that  ever  as  at  first  remain'd) 
But  that  my  vision  quickening,  in  that  sole  105 

Appearance,  still  new  miracles  descry'd, 
And  toil'd  me  with  the  change.     In  that  abyss 
Of  radiance,  clear  and  lofty,  seem'd  methought, 


360  PAUADISK. 

Tliree  orbs  of  triple  hue  dipt  in  one  bound  : 
And,  from  anothex',  one  reflected  seem'd,  110 

As  rainbow  is  from  rainboAv :  and  tlie  third 
Seem'd  fire,  breath'd  equally  from  both.     Oh  speech 
How  feeble  and  how  faint  art  tliou,  to  give 
Conception  birth  !     Yet  this  to  what  I  saw 
Is  less  than  little.     Oh  eternal  light !  115 

Sole  in  thyself  that  dwellst ;  and  of  thyself 
Sole  understood,  past,  present,  or  to  come  ! 
Thou  smiledst ;  on  that  circling,  which  in  thee 
Seem'd  as  reflected  splendour,  while  I  mus'd  ; 
I      For  I  therein,  mcthought,  in  its  own  hue  120 

\      Beheld  our  image  painted  :  steadfastly 
i       I  therefore  por'd  upon  the  view.     As  one 
<      Who  vers'd  in  geometric  lore,  woiild  fain 
I      Measure  the  circle  ;  and,  though  pondering  long 
I      And  deeply,  that  beginning,  which  he  needs,  125 

?  Finds  not ;  e'en  such  was  I,  intent  to  scan 
i  The  novel  wonder,  and  trace  out  the  form, 
k       How  to  the  circle  fitted,  and  therein 

[How  plac'd  :  but  the  flight  was  not  for  my  wing ; 
Had  not  a  flash  darted  athwart  my  mind,  130 

I       And  in  the  spleen  unfolded  what  it  sought. 
f  Here  vigour  fail'd  the  tow'ring  fantasy  : 

iBut  yet  the  will  roll'd  onward,  like  a  wheel 
In  even  motion,  by  the  Love  impell'd. 
That  moves  the  sun  in  heav'n  and  all  the  stars  135 


IsrOTES    TO    HIEIjL. 


CANTO  I. 


Verse  1.  In  the  midway.']  That  the  a?ra  of  the  Poem  is  intended  by 

these  words  to  he  fixed  to  the  thirty-fifth  year  of  the  poet's  a.i-e,  a.d.  ] 

1300,  will  appear  more  plainly  in  Canto  XXI.  where  that  date  is  explicitly  \ 

marked.  j 

V.  16.   That  planet' s  beam.']    The  snn.  3 

V.  29.   The  hinUer  foot.']    It  is  to  be  remembered,  that  in  ascending  a  \ 

hill  the  weight  of  the  body  rests  on  the  hinder  foot.  3 

V.  30.  A  panther.]     Pleasure  or  luxury.  | 

V.  3().   With  those  stars.]    The  sun  was  in  Aries,  in  which  sign  ho  suiJ-  \ 

poses  it  to  have  begun  its  course  at  the  creation.  j 

V.  43.  A  Hon.]    Pride  or  ambition.  ' 

V.  45.  A  she-ioolf.]    Avarice. 

v.  5(5.   Where  the  sun  in  silence  rests.]    Hence  Milton  appears  to  have  j 

taken  his  idea  in  the  Samson  Agonistes  :  j 

The  snn  to  me  is  dark,  \ 

And  silent  as  the  moon,  &c.  | 

The  same  metaphor  will  recur,  Canto  V.  v.  29.  | 

Into  a  place  I  came  \ 
Where  liglit  was  silent  all. 

V.  G5.   When  the  poiver  of  JnUns.]    Tliis  is  explained  by  the  comnien-  ] 

tators  to  mean — "  Although  it  was  rather  late  with  respect  to  my  birth,  ~i 

before  .Julius  C»sar  assumed  the  supreme  authority,  and  made  himself  ; 

perpetual  dictator."  ] 

V.  98.   That  grey hovnd.]    This  passage  is  intended  as  an  eulogium  on  ] 

the  liberal  spirit  of  his  Veronese  patron  Can  Grande  della  Scala.  I 

V    102.  'Twizt  either  Feltro.]     Verona,  the  country  of  Can  della  Scala,  ; 

is  situated  between  Feltro,  a  city  in  the  Marca  Trivigiana,  and  Monte  |; 

Feltro,  a  city  in  tlie  territory  of  Urbino.  \ 

V.  103.  Italia,' s  plains .]     "  Umile  Italia,"  from  Virgil,  Mn.  lib.  iii.  522.  \ 

Humilemque  videmus  \ 
Italian!. 

V.  115.  Content  in  fire.]    The  spirits  in  Purgatory. 

V.  118.  A  spirit  ivorthier.]     Beatrice,  who  conducts  the  Poet  through 
Paradise. 

V.  i;!0.  Saint  Peter's  fjaie.]    The  gate  of  Purgatory,  whicli  the  Poet 
feigns  to  bo  gu;u'ded  by  an  angel  ]i!aced  on  that  station  by  St.  Peter. 

361 


3)2  NOTES. 

CANTO  II. 

V.  1.  Now  wan  the  (l(nj.'\     A  conipciHlinm  of  Virgil's  dcscrintion,  ..'En. 
lib.  iv.  522.  Nox  erat,  &c.    Compare  Apolhjiiiu.s  KlunUus,  lib.  iii.  744.  and 
lib.  iv,  1058 
V.  8.  0  miiul] 

0  tlioiifjht  tliat  write  all  that  I  met, 
And  in  the  tresorie  it  .set 
Of  my  biaine,  now  shall  men  see 
If  any  viitne  in  thee  be. 

Chaucer.  Temple  of  Fame,  b.  ii.  v.  18. 
V.  14.  Silvnis^  sire.]    ^neas. 

V.  30.  The  chosen  vessel.]     St.  Paul.    Acts,  c.  ix.  v.  15.      "  But  the 
Lord  said  unto  him,  Go  thy  way  ;  for  he  is  a  chosen  vessel  unto  me." 

V.  4(i.  77///  .wul.]     L'anima  tua  e  da  viltate  offe.sa.    So  in  Bcrni,  Orl. 
Inn.  lib.  iii.  c.  i.  st.  53. 

Se  I'alma  avete  offcsa  da  viltate. 
V.  54.  TF7iO  rest  S7(.<<pended.]    The  spirits  in  Limbo,  neither  admitted  to 
a  state  of  glorj^  nor  doomed  to  punishment. 

V.  (!1.  A  friend  not  of  my  fortune,  hut  myself]     Se  non  forttiuie  sed 
hominibiis  solere  esse  amicum.     Cornelii  Nepotis  Attici  V'itir,  c.  ix. 

V.  7.S.    Whatever  is  contain'd.]     Every  other  thing   comprised   within 
the  liuiar  heaven,  which,  being  the  lowest  of  all,  has  the  smallest  circle. 
V.  !);>.  A  blessed  dame.]    The  divine  mercy. 
V.  07.  Liicia.]    The  enlightening  grace  of  heaven. 
V.  124.  Three  7naids.]    The  divine  mercy,  Lucia,  and  Beatrice. 
V.  127.  Asflo7-ets.]    This  simile  is  well  translated  by  Chaucer — 
But  right  as  floures  through  the  cold  of  night 
Iclosed,  stoupen  in  her  stalkes  lowe, 
Redressen  hem  agen  the  sunue  briglit. 
And  speden  in  her  Idnde  course  by  rowe,  &c. 

Troilus  and  Creseide,  b.  ii. 
It  has  been  imitated  by  many  others,  among  whom  see  Berni,  Orl.  Inn. 
lib.  1.  c.  xii.  St.  8(5.     Marino,  Adone,  c.  xvii.  st.  (53.  and  Son.  "Donna 
vestita  di  nero."  and  Spenser's  Faery  Queen,  b.  4.  c.  xii.  st.  34.  and  b.  G. 
c.  ii.  st.  35. 

CANTO  III. 

V.  5.  Poiver  divine, 

Supremcst  wisdom,  and  primeval  loiie."] 
The  three  persons  of  the  l:)lessed  Trinity. 
V. !).  All  hope  abandoned.] 

Lasciate  ogni  siieranza  voi  ch'  eutrate. 
So  Berni,  Orl.  Inn.  lib.  i.  c.  8.  st.  53. 

Lascia  pur  della  vita  ogni  speranza. 
V.  29.  Like  to  the  sand.] 

Unnumber'd  as  the  sands 
Of  Barca  or  Gyrene's  torrid  soil, 
Le\  ied  to  side  with  warring  winds,  and  poise 
Their  lighter  wings. 

Milton.  P.  L.  b.  ii.  003. 


V.  40.  La^t  th'  arc7(rsrd  tribe.]     Lest  the  reLellious  niseis  should  exult 
at  seeing  tliose  who  were  neutral,  .and  therefore  less  guilty,  condeuine<l 
to  the  same  puuisluutiit  with  thenisclves. 
V.  50.  A  flag.] 

All  the  grisly  legions  that  troop 
Under  the  sooty  flag  of  Acheron. . 

Milton.  C'omus. 
V.  56.  Who  to  base  fear 

Yicklinr/,  ahjur'd  his  hir/h  estate.] 
This  is  commonly  understood  of  Celestine  the  Fifth,  who  abdicated  the 
papal  power  in  1294.     Venturi  mentions  a  work  written  by  Innocenzio 
Barcellini,  of  the  Celestine  order,  and  printed  in  Milan  in  1701,  in  which 
an  atteni)it  is  m;ide  to  ])ut  a  different  interpretation  on  this  passage. 
V.  70.  Throiujh  the  blear  licjht.] 

Lo  fioco  lume. 
So  Filicaja,  canz.  vi.  st.  12. 

Qual  fioco  lame. 
V.  77.  An  old  man.] 

Portitor  has  liorrendns  aquas  et  flumina  servat 
Terribili  sqnalore  Charon,  cui  plurima  nu-nto  . 
Canities  inculta  jacet  ;  stant  lumina  llaniuui. 

Vir;/.  /En.  lib.  tI.  2, 
V.  82.  In  fierce  heat  and  in  ice.] 

The  delighted  spirit 
To  bathe  in  fiery  floods,  or  to  reside 
In  thrilling  regions  of  thick-ribbed  ice. 

Shakesp.  Measure  fur  Measure,  a.  iii.  s.  1. 
Compare  Milton,  P.  L.  b.  ii.  COO. 
V.  92.  The  livid  lake.]     Vada  livida. 

Virrj.  yF.n.  lib.  vi.  320. 
Totius  ut  Incus  putida-que  jialudis 
Lividissima,  maximeqne  est  profunda  vorago. 

Catullus,  xviii.  10. 
V.  102.   With  eyes  ofbirrninr;  coal.] 

His  looks  were  dreadful,  and  his  fiery  eyes 
Like  two  great  beacons  glared  bright  and  wide. 

S2M)iser.  F.  Q.  b.  vi.  c.  vii.  st.  42. 
V.  104.  As  fall  off  the  li</ht  of  autumnal  leaves.] 

Qnnm  multa  in  silvis  autnmni  frigore  i^rimo 
Lapsa  cadunt  folia. 

Virg.  J??i.  lib.  vi.  300. 
Compare  Apoll.  Rhod.  lib.  iv.  214, 

CANTO  IV. 

V.  8.  A  thund'roits  sound.]    Imitated,  as  Mr.  Thyer  has  remarked,  by 
Milton,  P.  L.  b.  viii.  242. 

But  long  ere  onr  approaching  heard 
Noise,  other  than  the  sound  of  dance  or  song, 
Torment,  and  loud  lament,  and  furious  rage. 
V.  50.  A  pvLssant  one.]     Our  Saviour. 


364  NOTES, 

V.  75.  Honour  the  bard 

Sitbl  17111'.] 
Onorate  I'iiltissiino  poeta. 
So  Chiabrera,  Canz.  Eroiclie.  i)2. 

Onorando  I'altissimo  poeta. 
V.  79.  Of  semblance  neither  sorrotoful  nor  glad.] 
She  lias  to  sober  ne  to  plad. 

Chaucer's  Dream. 
V.  90.   T7ie  Monarch  of  .vihlimest  sonr/.]     Homer. 
V.  100.  Fitter  left  untold.] 

Che'l  taccre  fe  bello. 
So  our  Poet,  in  Canzone  14. 

La  vide  in  parte  che'l  tacere  e  bello. 
Ruccellai,  Le  Api,  789. 

Ch'  a  dire  e  brutto  ed  a  tacerlo  e  bello. 
\        And  Berabo, 

\  "  Vie  pill  bello  e  il  tacerle,  clie  il  favellarne." 

\  Gli.  Asol.  lib.  1. 

i|  V.  117.  Electra.]    The  danshterof  Atlas,  and  mother  of  DaiTlniiiis,  tlie 

p  founder  of  Troy.  See  Virjj.  jFm.  b.  viii.  i;34.  as  referred  to  by  Dant';-  in 
ij  treatise  "  De  Jlonarchia,"  lib.  ii.  "Electra,  scilicet,  nata  maj^ni  iionii.iis 
•j  regis  Atlantis,  lit  de  ambobus  tcstinioninra  reddit  poeta  noster  in  octavo 
S         ubi  jEiieas  ad  Avandrnni  sic  ait 

5 

I  "Dardanns  Iliaerp,"  &c. 

I  V.  125.  Julia.]    The  daughter  of  .Tuliiis  C;T?sar,  and  wife  of  Poinpey. 

i  v.  126.   The  Soldan fierce.]     Saladiu,  or  Salaheddiu,  tlie  rival  of  Rich- 

ard Coiiir  de  Leon,     See  D'llcrbelot,  Bibl   Orient,  and  Knolles's  Hist, 
of  the  Turks,  p.  57  to  7.3  ;  and  the  Life  of  Saladin,  by  Bohao'edia  Ebn 
Shedad,  jMiblished  by  Albert  Sclmltcns,  with  a  Latin  translation.     He  is 
introduced  by  Petrarch  in  the  Triuin])li  of  Fame,  c.  ii. 
v.  128.  The  master  of  the  sapient  thromj.] 

Maestro  di  color  die  sanno. 
Aristotle. — Petrarch  assigns  the  first  place  to  Plato.     See  Triumph  of 
Fame,  c.  iii. 
Pulci,  in  his  Morgante  Maggiore,  c.  xviii.  says, 

Tu  se'il  maestro  di  color  che  sanno. 
V.  132.  Demorritus, 

TF7io  sets  the  ivorld  at  chance.] 
Democritus,  who  maintained  tlie  world  to  have  been  formed  by  the 
fortuitous  concourse  of  atoms. 

V.  140.  Aviccji.]     See  D'llerbelot,  Bibl.  Orient,  article  Sina.     He  died 
in  1050.     Pulci  here  again  imitates  our  poet : 

Avicenna  quel  che  il  sentimento 
Intese  di  Aristotile  c  i  segreti, 
Averrois  che  fece  il  gran  coniento. 

Morg.  Mag.  c.  xxv. 
V.  140.  Him  toho  made 

That  commentary  vast,  Atterroes.] 
Averroes,  called  by  the  Arabians  Roschd,  translated  and  commented 
the  works  of  Aristotle,      According  to  Tirabosclii  (Storia  doUa  Lett. 


HELL.  865 

Ital.  t.  V.  1.  ii.  c.  ii.  sect.  4)  he  was  the  source  of  modern  pliiloso])liical 
impiety.  The  critic  quotes  some  passages  from  rctrarch  (Seiiih  1.  v. 
ep.  iii.  et.  Oper.  v.  ii.  p.  114o)  to  sliow  liow  stroiij^ly  such  seiitiineuts 
prevailed  in  the  time  ol  that  poet,  l^y  wiiom  tliey  were  lield  in  horror 
and  detestation.  He  adds,  tliat  tliis  fanatic  admirer  of  Aristotle  trans- 
hited  his  writings  with  that  felicity,  whicli  might  he  expected  from  one 
who  did  not  know  a  syllable  of  Greek,  and  who  was  therefore  compelled 
to  avail  himself  of  the  unfaithful  Arabic  versions.  D'Herbelot,  on  the 
other  liand,  informs  us,  that  "  Averroes  was  the  first  who  translated 
Aristotle  from  Greek  into  Arabic,  before  tlie  Jews  had  made  their  trans- 
lation ;  and  tliat  we  had  for  a  long  time  no  other  text  of  Ai'istotle,  ex- 
cept that  of  the  Latin  translation,  which  was  made  from  this  Arabic 
version  of  thih  great  philosopher  (Averroes),  who  afterwards  added  to  it 
a  very  ample  commentary,  of  which  Thomas  Aquinas,  and  the  other 
scholastic  writers,  availed  themselves,  before  the  Greek  originals  of 
Aristotle  and  liis  commentators  were  known  to  us  iu  Europe."  Accord- 
ing to  D'Herbelot,  he  died  iu  1198  ;  but  Tiraboschi  places  that  event 
about  1206. 

CANTO  V. 

V.  6.  Grinning  ivith  ghastly  feature.']    Hence  Milton  : 
Death 
Grinn'd  horrible  a  ghastly  smile. 

P.  L.  b.  ii.  845. 
V.  46.  As  cranes.]     This  simile  is  imitated  by  Lorenzo  de  Medici,  iu 
his  Ambra,  a  poem,  first  published  by  Mr.  Roscoe,  iu  the  Appendix  to 
his  Life  of  Lorenzo. 

Marking  the  tracts  of  air,  the  clamorous  cranes 
Wheel  tlieir  due  flight  in  varied  ranks  descried  ; 
And  each  with  outstretch'd  neck  his  rank  maintains, 
In  marshal'd  order  through  th'  etliereal  void. 

Roscoe,  v.  i.  c.  v.  p.  257.  4to  edit. 
Compare  Homer.  II.  iii.  3.    Virgil,  ^neid.  1.  x.  264,  and  Ruccellai,  Le 
Api,  942,  and  Dante's  Purgatory,  Canto  XXIV.  63. 
V.  96.  The  land.]    Ravenna. 
V.  99.  Love,  that  in  gentle  heart  is  quicTcly  learnt.] 

Amor,  ch'  al  cor  gentil  ratto  s'apprende, 
A  line  taken  by  Marino,  Adone,  c.  cxli.  st.  251. 
V.  102.  Love,  that  denial  takes  from  none  helov'd.] 

Amor,  ch'  a  null'  amato  amar  perdona. 
So  Boccaccio,  in  his  Filocopo.  1.  1. 

Amore  mai  non  perdonb  I'amore  a  nullo  amato. 
And  Pulci,  in  the  Morgante  Maggiore,  c.  iv. 

E  perche  amor  mal  volontier  perdona, 
Che  non  sia  al  fin  sempre  amato  clii  ama. 
Indeed  many  of  the  Italian  poets  have  repeated  this  verse. 
V.  105.  Caina.]    The  place  to  which  murderers  are  doomed. 
V.  113.  Francesca.]    Francesca,  daughter  of  Guido  da  Polenta,  lord  of 
Ravenna,  was  given  liy  her  father  in  marriage  to  Lanciotto,  son  of  Jlala- 
testa,  lord  of  Rimini,  a  man  of  extraordinary  courage,  but  deformed  in 
his  person.    His  brother  Paolo,  who  uuliappily  possessed  those  graces 


3G()  NOTKS. 

which  tlie  hushnml  of  Frniicosca  wanted,  cngagprl  lior  affections  ;  and 
beinfj;  talven  in  adiilttry,  they  were  lioth  put  to  death  by  the  enraged 
Lanciotto.    See  Notes  to  Canto  XXVll.  v.  4;{. 

Tlie  wliole  of  this  i)assat,'e  is  alluded  to  by  Pctravcli,  in  liis  Trinniph  of 
Love,  c.  iii. 

V.  118.  iN'^o  f/rcotcr  grief  than  to  remember  days 

Of  joy,  when  mis'ry  is  ul  hand .'] 

lniit;ited  by  Marino  : 

Che  non  lia  doglia  il  niisero  niapsiore, 
Che  ricordar  la  gioia  entio  il  dolore. 

Adone,  c.  xiv.  st.  100. 
And  by  Fortiguerra  : 

Kiniciiibrarc  il  ben  pcrduto 
Fa  piu  meschino  lo  presente  stato. 

Ricciurdetto,  c.  xi.  st.  83. 
Tlie  original  perhaps  was  in  Boetius  de  Consol.  Philosoph.  "In  onnii 
adversitate  fortiune  infelicissinumi  genus  est  iufortunii  f uisse  felicem  et 
non  esse."  1.  2.  \)v.  4. 

V.  124.  Luncvht.']  One  of  the  Knights  of  the  Round  Table,  and  the 
lover  of  Ginevra,  or  Guinever,  celebrated  in  ronumce.  The  incident 
alluded  to  seems  to  have  made  a  strong  impression  on  the  imaginatiou 
of  Dante,  who  introduces  it  again,  less  happily,  in  the  Paradise,  Canto 
XVI. 
V.  128.  At  one  point.'] 

Questo  quel  punto  fu,  che  sol  mi  vinse. 

Tasso,  II  Torrisrnondo,  a.  i.  s.  3. 
V.  13G.  And  like  a  corpse  fell  to  the  groiind.] 

E  caddi,  come  corpo  morto  cade. 
So  Pulci : 

E  cadde  come  morto  in  terra  cade. 

Moryante  Magf/oire,  c.  xxii. 

CANTO  VI. 

V.  1.  My  sense  reviving.'] 

Al  tornar  della  mente,  che  si  chinse, 
Dinanzi  alia  pieta  de'  duo  cognati. 

Berni  has  made  a  sportive  application  of  these  lines,  in  his  Orl.  Inn.  1. 
iii.  c.  viii.  st.  1. 

V.  21.  That  great  worm.]     So  in  Canto  XXXIV.  Lucifer  is  called 
Th'  abhorred  v:orm,  that  boreth  through  the  world. 
Ariosto  has  imitated  Dante  : 

Ch'  al  gran  verme  infernal  mette  la  briglia, 
E  che  di  lui  come  a  lei  par  dis])one. 

Orl.  Fw:  c.  xlvi.  st.  7fi. 
V.  52.   Ciacco.]     So  called  from  his  inordin.'itc  apjietite  :    Ciacco,  in 
Italian,  signifying  a  pig.     The  real  name  of  this  glutton  has  not  been 
transmitted  to  us.    He  is  introduced  in  Boccaccio's  Deciuieron,  Giorn. 
ix.  Nov.  8. 

V.  fil.  The  dinidcd  city.]  The  city  of  Florence,  divided  into  the  Bianchl 
and  Neri  factions. 
V.  65.    The  wild  party  from  the  woods.]    So  called,  because  it  was 


HELL.  367 

headed  by  Veri  de'  Cerchi,  whose  family  liad  lately  come  into  the  city 
from  Acone,  and  tlie  woody  country  of  the  Val  di  Nievolo. 

V.  (5<).  Thr  other.]  The  opposite  party  of  the  Neri,  at  the  head  of  which 
was  Corso  Doiiati. 

V.  07.  Tliis  must  fall.']    The  Bianchi. 

V.  69.  Of  one,  who  under  shore 

yoiv  rests.] 

Charles  of  Valois,  by  whose  means  the  Neri  were  replaced. 

V.  73.  The  just  are  two  in  7iumber.]  Who  these  two  were,  the  com- 
mentators are  not  agreed. 

V.  7!).  Of  Farinatn  and  Teqghiaio.]  See  Canto  X.  and  Notes,  and 
Canto  XV[.  and  Notes. 

V.  SO.  Glacopo.]     Giacopo  Knsticncci.    See  Canto  XVI.  and  Notes. 

V.  81.  Arrigo,  J/oscrt.]  Of  Arrigo,  who  is  said  by  the  commentators 
to  have  been  of  the  noble  family  of  the  Fifanti,  no  mention  afterwards 
occurs.    Mosca  degli  Uberti  is  introduced  in  Canto  XXVIII. 

V.  108.  Consult  thy  knoxvledge.]  Wo  are  referred  to  the  following  pas- 
sage in  St.  Augnstin  : — "  Cum  fiet  resurrectio  carnis,  et  bonornm  gaudia 
et  inalorum  tormenta  majora  erunt." — "  At  the  resurrection  of  the  tlesli. 
both  the  happiness  of  the  good  and  the  torments  of  the  wicked  will  be 
increased." 

CANTO  VII. 

V.  1.  Ah  me  !  0  Satan  !  Satan  !] 

Pape  Satan,  Pape  Satan,  aleppe. 
Pape  is  said  by  the  commentatoi's  to  be  the  same  as  the  Latin  word 
papcB  !  "strange!"     Of  aleppe  they  do  not  give  a  more  satisfactory 
account. 

See  the  Life  of  Benvenuto  Cellini,  translated  bj'  Dr.  Nugent,  v  ii.  b. 
iii.  c.  vii.  p.  ll."?,  where  he  mentions  "having  heard  the  words  Paix, 
paiXi  Satan  !  allez,  paix  !  in  the  court  of  justice  at  Paris.  I  recollected 
what  Dante  said,  when  he  with  his  master  Virgil  entered  the  gates  of 
hell  :  for  Dante,  and  Giotto  the  jiainter,  were  together  in  France,  and 
visited  Paris  with  particular  attention,  where  the  court  of  justice  may  be 
considered  as  hell.  Hence  it  is  that  Dante,  who  was  likewise  perfect 
master  of  the  French,  made  use  of  that  expression  ;  and  I  have  ofteu 
been  surprised  that  it  was  never  understood  in  that  sense." 
V.  12.  The  first  adulterer  proud.]  Satan. 
v.  22.  E'en  as  a  hilloio.] 

As  when  two  billows  in  the  Irish  sowndes 
Forcibly  driven  with  contrarie  tides, 
Do  meet  together,  each  aback  rebounds 
With  roaring  rage,  and  dashing  on  all  sides, 
That  filleth  all  the  sea  with  foam,  divides 
The  doubtful  current  into  divers  wayes. 

Spenser,  F.  Q'.  b.  iv.  c.  1.  st.  42. 
V.  48.  Popes  and  cardinals.]    Ariosto,  having  personified  Avarice  aa 
a  strange  and  hideous  monster,  says  of  her — • 

Peggio  facea  nella  Romana  corte, 
Che  v'avea  uccisi  Cardinali  e  Papi. 

Orl.  Fur.  c.  xxvi.  st.  32. 
Worse  did  she  in  the  court  of  Rome,  for  there 
She  had  slain  Popes  and  Cardinals. 


3i38  NOTKS. 

V.  5)1.  By  vrces.vli/.]  Tliis  sciitiincnt  called  foitli  the  icpicheiisiou  ol 
Cecco  d'Ascoli,  in  liis  Acerha,  1.  1.  c.  i. 

In  cid  pecc.'isti,  O  Fiorciitin  poct.a,  &c. 
Herein,  ()  Itaid  of  Florence,  (li<lst  tliou  err, 
Laying;  it  down  that  f<jrtiine's  larj;esscs 
Are  fated  tu  their  unal.     Fnrtiin<;  is  none, 
That  reason  cannot  eonqner.     Marie  thou,  Dante, 
If  any  argument  may  gainsay  this. 

CANTO  VIII. 

V.  18.  Phlcr/yas.']  Phle^yas,  who  was  so  incensed  af^ainst  Ajiollo,  for 
having  violated  his  daugliter  Coronis,  that  he  set  fire  to  the  tem|il(;  of 
that  deitv,  by  whose  vengeance  he  was  cast  into  Tartarus.  See  A'irg. 
^n.  1.  vi."  H18. 

v.  59.  Filippo  Arr/enti.]  Boccaccio  tells  ns,  "  he  was  a  man  remark- 
able for  the  large  jiroportions  and  extraordinary  vigor  of  his  bodily 
frame,  and  the  extreme  waywardness  and  irascibility  of  Ins  temper." 
Decani,  g.  ix.  n.  8. 

V.  G6.  The  city,  that  of  Dis  is  nam'd.]  So  Ariosto.  Orl.  Fur.  c.  xl. 
6t.  32. 

V.  94.  Seven  times.]  The  commentators,  .'says  Venturi,  iierplex  them- 
selves with  the  inquiry  what  seven  perils  these  were  from  which  Dante 
had  been  delivered  by  Virgil.  Reckoning  the  beasts  in  the  first  Cimto 
as  one  of  them,  and  adding  Charon,  Minos,  Cerlierus,  PlutMs,  Phlegyas, 
and  Fili|)po  Argenti,  as  so  many  others,  we  shall  have  the  number  ;  and 
if  this  be  not  satisfactory,  we  may  suppose  a  determinate  to  have  been 
put  for  an  indeterminate  number. 

V.  109.  At  ivar  'twixt  loill  and  loill  not.] 

Che  SI,  e  no  nel  capo  mi  tenzona. 

So  Boccaccio,  Ninf.  Fiesol.  st.  233. 

II  PI  e  il  lib  nel  capo  gli  contende. 

The  words  I  have  adopted  as  a  translation,  are  Shakspeare's,  Measure 
for  Measure,  a.  ii.  s.  1. 

V.  122.  This  their  insolence,  not  neio.]  Virgil  assures  onr  poet,  that 
these  evil  spirits  had  formerly  shown  the  same  insolence  when  our  Sa- 
vior descended  into  hell.  They  attemjited  to  prevent  him  from  entering 
at  the  gate,  over  which  Dante  had  read  the  fatal  inscription.  "That 
gate  which,"  says  the  Roman  poet,  "an  angel  has  just  ])assed,  by  whose 
aid  we  shall  overcome  this  opposition,  and  gain  admittance  into  the  city." 

CANTO  IX. 
V.  1.   The  7i7(c.]    Virgil,  perceiving  that  Dante  was  pale  with  fear,  re- 
etrained  those  outward  tokens  of  displeasure  which  his  own  countenance 
had  betrayed. 

V.  23.  Erietho.]     Erictho,  a  Thessalian  sorceress,  according  to  Lncan, 
Pharsal.  1.  vi.  was  employed  by  Sextus,   son  of  Pompey  the  Great,  to 
conjure  up  a  spirit,  who  should  inform  him  of  the  issue  of  the  civil  wars 
■between  his  father  and  Caesar. 
V.  25.  No  long  space  my  flesh 

Was  naked  of  me.] 
Qam  corpus  complexa  animae  tam  fortis  inane. 

Ovid.  Met.  1.  xiii.  f.  2. 


HELL.  .        369 

Daiito  appears  to  liave  fallen  into  a  strange  anachronism,    Virgil's 
deatli  did  not  haiipcn  till  Jong  after  this  period. 
V.  42.  Adders  and  cerastes.] 

Vipereum  crineni  vittis  iiniexa  cruentis. 

Virr/.  ^n.  1,  vi.  281. 
^spiuaqne  vagi  torquente  cerastaj 

-        -        -        -      et  torrida  dipsas 

Et  gravis  in  geminum  vergens  capnt  amphisba'na. 

Lucan.  Pharsal.  1.  ix.  719. 
So  Milton  : 

Scorpion  and  asp,  and  ampliisba-na  dire, 
Cerastes  liorn'd,  liydrus  and  elops  drear, 
And  dipsas. 

P.  L.  b.  X.  524. 
V.  G7.  A  wind.]    Imitated  by  Berni,  Oil.  Inn.  1.  1.  c.  ii.  st.  6. 
V.  88.    With  Jiis  wand.] 

She  with  her  rod  did  softly  snute  the  raile, 
Which  straight  flew  ope. 

S2Knscr.  F.  Q.  b.  iv.  c.  iii.  st.  40. 
V.  <,)().    What  projits  at  the  fays  to  hut  the  horn.]     "Of  what  avail  can  it 
be  to  offer  violence  to  impassive  behigs  ?  " 

V.  97.  Yonr  Cerberus.]  Cerberns  is  feigned  to  have  been  dragged  by 
Hercules,  bound  with  a  three-fold  chain,  of  which,  says  the  angel,  he 
still  bears  the  marks. 

v.  111.  The  plains  of  Aries.]  In  Provence.  See  Ariosto,  Orl.  Fur.  c. 
xxxix.  st.  72. 

v.  112.  At  Pola.]  A  city  of  Istria,  situated  near  the  gulf  of  Quaniaro, 
in  the  Adriatic  sea. 

CANTO  X. 

V.  12.  Josaphat.]  It  seems  to  have  been  a  common  opinion  among  the 
Jews,  as  well  as  among  many  Christians,  that  the  general  judgment  will 
be  held  in  the  valley  of  Josaiihat,  or  Jehoshajihat  :  "  I  will  also  giither 
all  nations,  and  will  bring  them  down  into  the  valley  of  Jehoshajihat, 
and  will  plead  with  them  there  for  my  people,  and  for  my  heritage 
Israel,  whom  they  have  scattered  among  the  nations,  and  parted  my 
land."    Joel,  iii.  2. 

V.  32.  Farivafa.]  Farinata  dcgli  Uberti,  a  noble  Florentine,  was  the 
leader  of  the  Ghibelline  faction,  when  they  obtained  a  signal  victory 
over  the  Guelfi  at  Montapei-to,  near  the  river  Arbia.  IMacciiiavelli  cal's 
him  "a  man  of  exalted  soul,  and  great  military  talents."  Hist,  of  Flor. 
b.  ii. 

V.  52.  A  shade.]  The  spirit  of  Cavalcante  Cavalcanti,  a  noble  Floreij- 
tine,  of  the  Guelph  ])arty. 

V.  59.  3fy  S07).]  Guido,  the  son  of  Cavalcante  Cavalcanti  ;  "he  whom 
I  call  the  first  of  my  friends,"  says  P.inte  in  his  A'^ita  Nnova,  where  the 
coniniencement  of  their  friend^hij)  is  related.  From  the  character  given 
of  him  by  contcm|3orary  writ(^rs,  his  temper  was  well  formed  to  assimi- 
late with  that  of  our  poet.  "  He  was,"  according  to  G.  Villani,  1.  viii.  c. 
41.  "  of  a  ])hilosophical  and  elegant  mind,  if  he  had  not  been  too  delicate 
and  fastidious."    And  Dino  Compagni  terms  him  "  a  young  and  noble 

24 


'd'tO  NOTES. 

knight,  bravo  and  conrteoiis,  but  of  a  lofty  scornful  si)irit,  much  addicted 
to  solitude  and  study."  Muratori.  lier.  Ital.  Scii|)t.  t.  It.  1.  1.  |).  481.  He 
died,  citlicr  in  exile  at  Serrazana,  or  soon  after  his  return  to  Florence, 
December  t;?00,  diirinj;-  the  spring  of  which  year  the  action  of  this  poem 
is  supposed  to  be  passing. 

V.  62.  Guido  thy  son 

Had  ill  coiHcmpt.] 

Guido  Cavalcanti,  being  more  given  to  ])hilosophy  than  poetry,  was 
perhaps  no  groat  admirer  of  Virgil.  Some  p(;ctical  comimsitions  by 
Guido  are,  however,  still  extant ;  and  his  reputation  for  skill  in  the  art 
was  .such  as  to  eclipse  that  of  his  predecessor  and  namesake  Guido 
Guinicelli,  as  we  shall  see  in  the  Purgatory,  Canto  XI.  His  "Canzone 
sopra  il  Terreno  Aniore"  was  thought  worthy  of  b(nng  illustrated  by 
numerous  and  ample  commentaries.  Crescinibeni  1st.  della  Volg.  Poes. 
1.  V. 

For  a  ]>layful  sonnet  which  Dante  addressed  to  him,  and  a  spirited 
translation  of  it,  see  Hayley's  Essay  on  Epic  Poetry,  Notes  to  Ep.  iii. 

V.  66.  Saidst  thou  he' had?]  In  ^Escliylus,  the  shade  of  Darius  is 
represented  as  inquiring  with  similar  anxiety  after  the  fate  of  his  son 
Xerxes. 

Atnssn,      MoroSa  5e  'Eip^r)v  epTj/xbi'  ((>acriu  6v  izokKiav  /xe'ra —   • '  • 
Darius.     Uws  5e  5»)  khI  ttoi  TeKevTav  etrri  ;   Tts  aioTr^pCa  ; 

nErSAI.  723. 

Atossa.    Xerxes  astonisli'd,  desolate,  alone — 

Ghost  of  Dar.     How  will  this  end  ?    Nay,  pause  not.     Is  he  safe  ? 

The  Persians.    Patterns  Translation. 

V.  77.  Not  yet  fifty  times.']  "  Not  fifty  months  shall  be  passed,  before 
thou  shalt  learn,  by  woeful  experience,  the  difficulty  of  returning  from 
banishment  to  thy  native  citj'." 

V.  83.  The  slaur/hter.]  "  By  means  of  Farinata  degli  Uberti,  the  Guelfi 
were  conquered  by  the  army  of  King  Manfredi,  near  the  river  Arbia, 
with  so  great  a  slaughter,  that  those  who  escaped  from  that  defeat  took 
refuge  not  in  Florence,  which  city  they  considered  as  lost  to  them,  but 
iu  Lucca."    Macchiavelli.  Hist,  of  Flor.  b.  2. 

V.  86.  Such  orisons.]  This  appears  to  allude  to  certain  prayers  which 
were  offered  up  in  the  churches  of  Florence,  for  deliverance  from  the 
hostile  attempts  of  the  Uberti. 

V.  flO.  SinqJi/ there  I  stood.]  Guido  Novello  assembled  a  council  of 
the  Ghibellini  at  Empoli,  where  it  was  agreed  by  all,  that,  in  order  to 
maintain  the  ascendency  of  the  Ghibelliue  party  in  Tuscany,  it  was  nec- 
essary to  destroy  Floi'ence,  which  could  serve  only  (tlie  people  of  that 
city  being  Guelfi)  to  enable  the  party  attached  to  the  church  to  recover 
its  strength.  This  cruel  sentence,  passed  upon  so  noble  a  city,  met  ^^•itll 
no  opposition  from  any  of  its  citizens  or  friends,  except  Farinata  degli 
Uberti,  who  ojienly  and  without  reserve  forbade  the  measure,  affirming 
that  he  had  endured  so  ninny  hardships,  and  encountered  so  many 
dangers,  with  no  other  view  than  that  of  being  able  to  pass  his  days  in 
his  own  country.     Macchiavelli.  Hist,  of  Flor.b.  2. 

V.  103.  Mif  fault.]  Uante  felt  remorse  for  not  having  returned  an 
immediate  answer  to  tlie  inquiry  of  Cavalcante,  from  wiiich  delay  he 
was  led  to  believe  that  his  son  Guido  was  no  longer  living. 

V.  120.  Frederick.]  The  Emperor  Frederick  the  Second,  who  died  in 
1250.     See  Notes  to  Canto  Xill. 

V.  121.   The  Lord  Cardinal .]     Ottaviano  Ubaldini,  a  Florentine,  made 


HELL.  871    ■ 

Cardinal  in  1245,  and  deceased  about  1273.     On  account  of  his  great 
influence,  lie  was  generally  known  by  tlie  appellation  of  "the  Cardinal." 
It  is  reported  of  liini  tiiat  he  declared,  if  there  were  any  such  thing  as  a 
human  soul,  he  liad  lost  his  for  the  Ghibellini. 
V.  132    Her  gracious  beam.]     Beatrice. 

CANTO  XI. 

V.  9.  Pope  Anof^tasms.]  The  commentators  are  not  agreed  concerning 
the  identity  of  the  person,  who  is  here  mentioned  as  a  fohower  ol'  tlie 
heretical  Photinus.  By  some  he  is  supjiosed  to  have  been  AnastMsins 
the  Second  ;  by  others,  the  Fourth  of  that  nauie  ;  wliile  a  third  set, 
jealous  of  the  integrity  of  tlie  pa]>al  faith,  contend  that  our  poet  has  con- 
fonnded  him  with  Anastasius  I.  Emperor  of  tlie  East. 

V.  17.  Ml/  so?).]  The  remainder  of  the  present  Canto  may  be  con- 
sidered as  a  syllabus  of  the  wliole  of  tliis  part  of  tlie  poem. 

V.  48.  And  sorroii-s.]  Tliis  flue  moral,  that  not  to  enjoy  our  being  is 
to  be  nngrateful  to  the  Author  of  it,  is  well  expressed  in  Spenser,  F.  Q. 
b.  iv.  c.  viii.  st.  15. 

For  he  whose  dales  in  wilful  woe  are  worne, 

The  grace  of  his  Creator  doth  despise, 

Tliat  will  not  use  his  gifts  for  thankless  nigardise. 

V.  53.  Cahors.]     A  city  in  Guienne,  mucli  frequented  by  nsurers. 

V.  83.  Thy  ethic  page.]     He  refers  to  Aristotle's  Ethics. 

"  Mera  5e  Ta.vTa   AeKTe'o)'   a\\r]v  TroiTJcrajticVonS   apx')'',  OTi   tCiv  irepl  To.  rjOrj  (jievKTiiv 
rpCa  ecTTii'  eiSr),  KaKia,  axpacria,  0ripi.6Tri<;.     Etldc.  Nicomach.  1.  vii.  C.  i. 

"In  the  next  place,  entering  on  another  division  of  the  subject,  let  it 
be  defined,  that  respecting  morals  there  are  three  sorts  of  things  to  be 
avoided,  malice,  incontinence,  and  bruti.shness." 

V.  104.    Her  lavs.]      Ari.stOtle's   PliysicS. — "  17   rexi-i?    /xifxerrai    Tr\v   4>v(Tii'." 

Arist.  *Y2.  AKP.  1.  ii.  c.  ii.     "  Art  imitates  nature." — See  the  Coltiva- 
zione  of  Alamanni,  1.  1. 

1'  arte  umaua,  &c. 

V.  111.  Creation's  holy  hook.]  Genesis,  c.  iii.  v.  19.  "In  the  sweat  of 
thy  face  slialt  thou  eat  bread." 

V.  119.   The  wain.]    The  constellation  Bootes,  or  Charles's  waiu. 

CANTO  XII. 

V.  17.  The  king  of  Athens.]  Theseus,  who  was  enabled,  by  the 
Instructions  of  Ariadne,  the  sister  of  the  Minotaur,  to  destroy  that 
monster. 

V.  21.  Like  to  a  bull.] 

'fis  5'  oral'  b^vv  exeoi/  ireXeKvv  oi^Jjiog  avrip, 
K6i|/as  i^oniOev  Kepdwv  ^obs  aypavXoio, 
'Iva.  Ttt/xT)  Sua.  iracrav,  6  Se  wpodopuiv  epiVrjcj-tv. 

Homer.  H.  1.  xvii.  522. 
As  when  some  vig'rous  youth  with  sharpcn'd  axe 
A  pastur'd  bullock  smites  behind  tlie  horns. 
And  hews  the  muscle  through  ;  he,  at  the  stroke 
Springs  forth  and  falls. 

Cowper's  Translation. 


OiZ  NOTES. 

V  .'in.  He  nrrii''il.]  Our  Saviour,  wlio,  aocordinjT  t(i  Dante,  wlien  he 
ascc'iidcil  from  licll,  carried  witli  liiiii  tlie  souls  of  tlio  patriarclm,  and 
otliui'  just  iiiCM,  out  of  tlie  first  circii;. '  Sue  Canto  IV. 

V.  "Ki,  jVc.'(.s/(s.)     Our  ]ioi't  was  probably  indiiciMl,  l)y  the  f<jllo\\in<i  line 
in  Ovid,  to  asHif^n  to  Nessiis  the  task  of  conducting  tlieni  over  the  ford  : 
Nessus  adit  nicnibri.sque  valens  scitnsque  vadorimi. 

Melmn.  1.  ix. 
And  Ovid's  authority  was  Sophocles,  who  says  of  this  Centaur — 

,  O?  Tof  PaOiipjiovv  TTOTa/ibi/  Eiirfvov  ^poTOUS 
MiaBoii  TTopeve  xcpalv  ourt  Trofiirinois 
Kujirai;  «pt'<rCT<oi','OUT«  \aC(f>eiTiv  few;. 

Track.  570. 
He  in  his  arms,  Even  us'  stream 
Dcep-fiowin<i,  bore  the  ])assen,y:er  for  hire, 
Without  or  sail  or  billow-cleaving  oar. 

V.  110.  Ezzolino.']  E/.zolino,  or  Azzolino  di  Romano,  a  most  cruel 
tyrant  in  the  ]M;irca  Trivigiana,  Lord  of  Padua,  Yiccnza,  A'eiona,  and 
Brescia,  who  died  in  12(50.  His  atrocities  form  the  subject  of  a  Latin 
tragedy,  called  J'^i'ccrinis,  by  Albertino  Mussato,  of  Padua,  the  contem- 
jioi'ary  of  Dante,  and  the  most  elegant  writer  of  Latin  verse  of  that  age. 
Sec  also  the  Paradise,  Canto  IX.  Berni.  Orl.  Tim.  1.  ii.  c.  xxv.  st.  50. 
Ariosto.  (>rl.  Fur.  c.  iii.  st.  o.'i.  and  Tassoni  Seccliia  Hapita,  c.  viii.  st.  11. 

V.  111.  (ihizzo'  of  Este.]  Marquis  of  Ferrara  and  of  the  INL-irca  d'An- 
cnna,  was  murdered  by  liis  own  son  (whom,  for  the  most  unn.'itural  act, 
Dante  calls  his  step-son),  iov  the  sake  of  tlie  treasures  which  his  rapacity 
had  amassed.  See  Ariosto.  Orl.  Fur.  c.  iii.  st.  32.  He  died  in  1293, 
according  to  Gibbon.  Ant.  of  the  House  of  Brunswick.  Posth.  Works, 
V.  ii.  4to. 

V.  Ill),  //c]  "  Henrie,  tlie  brother  of  this  Edmund,  and  son  to  the 
foresaid  king  of  Almaine  (Richard,  brother  of  Henry  III.  of  England)  as 
lie  returned  from  Affrike,  where  he  had  been  with  Prince  Edward,  was 
slain  at  Vitorbo  in  Italy  (whither  he  was  come  about  business  which  he 
had  to  do  with  the  Pope)  by  the  hand  of  Guy  de  Montfort,  the  son  of 
Simon  de  Montfort,  Earl  of  Leicester,  in  revenge  of  tlie  same  Simon's 
death.  The  niurther  was  committed  afore  the  high  altar,  as  the  same 
Henrie  kneeled  tiiere  to  hear  divine  service."  a.d.  1272,  Holinshed's 
Cliron.  p.  275.    See  also  Giov.  Villani  Hist.  I.  vii.  c.  40. 

V.  1.35.  On  Serins  and  on  Pyrrhus.]  Sextus,  either  the  son  of  Tarqnin 
the  Prond,  or  of  Pompey  the  Great  ;  or,  as  Vellutelli  conjectures,  Sextus 
Claudius  Nero,  and  Pyrrhus  king  of  Epirns. 

V.  137.  The  Rinieri,  of  Corneio  this, 

Pazzo  the  other  named.'] 

Two  noted  marauders,  by  whose  depredations  tlie  public  ways  in  Italy 
were  infested.    The  latter  was  of  the  noble  family  of  Pazzi  in  Florence. 

CANTO  xm. 

V.  10.  BeticiTt  Corncto  and  CecbuCs  stream.']  A  wild  and  woody  tract 
of  country,  abounding  in  deer,  goats,  and  wild  boars.  Cecina  is  a  river 
not  far  to  the  south  of  Leghorn  ;  Corneto,  a  small  city  on  the  same 
coast,  in  the  iiatrimony  of  the  church. 

V.  12.   The  Stnqihitdrs.]     See  Virg.  ^,n.  1.  iii.  210. 

V.  14.  Broad  arc  their  pennons.]    From  Virg.  .^n.  1.  iii.  216. 


nELL,  373 

V.  48.  In  my  verxe  drarrihrd.]  Tlie  commentators  cx|)lain  this,  "  If  lie 
could  liave  believed,  in  consequence  of  my  assurances  alone,  tliat  of  wliicli 
he  liath  now  had  ocular  proof,  he  would  not  have  stretched  forth  his 
hand  against  thee."  But  1  am  of  o])inion  that  Dante  makes  Viri;il 
allude  to  his  own  story  of  Polydorus,  in  the  third  book  of  the  j-Eueid. 

V.  5(i.  That  pleasant  loord  vf  thine.]  "  Since  you  have  inveigled  me  to 
speak  my  holding  forth  so  gratifying  an  expectation,  let  it  not  disi>]ease 
you  if  I  am  as  it  were  detained  in  the  snare  you  have  spread  for  me,  so 
as  to  be  somewhat  ])roIix  in  my  answer." 

V.  60.  I  it  lous.]  Pietro  delle  Vigne,  a  native  of  Capua,  who,  from  a 
low  condition,  raised  himself  by  his  eloc(uence  and  legal  knowledge  to 
the  office  of  Chancellor  to  the  Emperor  Frederick  II.  whose  confidence  in 
him  was  such,  that  his  influence  in  the  empire  became  unbounded.  The 
courtiers,  envious  of  his  exalted  situation,  contrived,  by  means  of  forged 
letters,  to  make  Frederick  believe  that  lie  held  a  secret  and  traitorous 
intercourse  with  the  Pope,  who  was  then  at  enmity  with  the  Emperor. 
In  consequence  of  this  supposed  crime  he  was  cruelly  condemned  by  his 
too  credulous  sovereign  to  lose  liis  eyes,  and,  being  driven  to  despair  by 
his  unmerited  calamity  and  di.sgrace,  he  put  an  end  to  his  life  by  dashing 
out  his  brains  against  the  walls  of  a  church,  in  the  year  1245.  Both 
Frederick  and  Pietro  delle  Vigne  composed  verses  in  the  Sicilian  dialect, 
which  are  yet  extant. 

V.  07.  The  harlot]  Envy.  Chaucer  alludes  to  this  iu  the  Prologue  to 
the  Legeude  of  Good  Women. 

Envie  is  lavender  to  the  court  alway, 
For  she  ne  parteth  neither  night  ne  day 
Out  of  the  house  of  Cesar  ;  thus  saitli  Dant. 

V.  119.  Each  fan  o'  th'  luood.]    Hence  perhaps  Miltou  : 
Leaves  and  fuming  rills,  Aurora's  fan. 

P.  L.  b.  V.  6. 

T.  122.  Lano.]  Lano,  a  Siennese,  who,  being  reduced  by  prodigality 
to  a  state  of  extreme  want,  found  his  existence  no  hjnger  supportable  ; 
and,  having  been  sent  by  his  couutrymeii  on  a  military  expedition,  to 
assist  the  Florentines  against  the  Aretini,  took  that  opportunity  of  ex- 
posing himself  to  certain  death,  in  the  engagement  which  took  place  at 
Toppo  near  Arezzo.     See  G.  Villani.  Hist.  1.  7.  c.  cxix. 

V.  133.  0  Giacomo 

Of  Sunt'  Andrea .'] 

Jacopo  da  Sant'  Andrea,  a  Padnan,  who,  having  wasted  his  property 
in  the  most  wanton  acts  of  profusion,  killed  himself  in  despair. 

V.  144.  In  that  citi/.]  "  I  was  an  inhabitant  of  Florence,  that  city 
■wliich  changed  her  first  patron  Mars  for  St.  .Tohn  the  Ba|itist,  fin-  which 
reason  the  vengeance  of  the  deity  thus  slighted  will  never  be  appeased  ; 
and,  if  some  remains  of  his  statue  were  not  still  visible  on  the  bridge 
over  the  Arno,  she  would  have  been  already  levelled  to  the  ground  ;  and 
thus  the  citizens,  who  raised  her  again  from  the  ashes  to  which  Attila 
had  reduced  her,  would  have  laboured  in  vain."  See  Paradise,  Canto 
XVI.  44. 

The  relic  of  antiquity,  to  which  the  superstition  of  Florence  attached 
so  high  an  importance,  was  carried  away  by  a  (loud,  that  destroyed  the 
bridge  on  which  it  stood,  in  the  year  I'^ol,  but  without  the  ill  effects 
th.at  were  apprehended  from  the  loss  of  their  fancied  Palladium. 

V.  152.  I  slumj  the  fatal  noose.]  We  are  not  informed  who  this  suicide 
was. 


374  NOTES. 

CANTO  XIV. 

V.  15.   liii  Cato'sfoot.']     See  Liican,  Plijirs,  1.  0. 

V.  '2C>.  liilutedjialccs  ofJiir.\     (Joiiiinue  Tasso.  fi.  L.  c.  x.  st.  61. 

V.  28.  As,  in  the  torrid  Indian  clinic]  Laiidino  refers  to  Albertus 
Maguiis  for  tlie  ciiciiiiistaiico  here  alluded  to. 

V.  53.  In  Mon<iiJ)<:llo.  J 

More  hot  tlian  MUi"  or  flaniinj?  Mongibcll. 

Spenser,  F.  Q.  b.  ii.  c.  ix.  st.  29. 

Soo  Y'u'j;.  JFa\.  1.  viii.  41«).  and  Beriii.  Orl.  Inn.  1.  i.  c.  xvi.  st.  21.  It 
would  be  endless  to  refer  to  iiarallel  i)assajics  in  the  Greek  writers. 

V.  (i4.  Tliis  of  the  seiten  kinfis  'n'd.t  oiic.\  (Jompare  ^I'^scli.  Seven  Chiefs, 
425.     Euripides,  I'hcen.  llT'.t.'  and  Statius.  Tlieb.  1.  x.  821. 

V.  7().  Bulicame.]  A  warm  medicinal  spring  near  Viterbo,  tlie  waters 
of  which,  as  Laudino  and  Vellutelli  affirm,  passed  by  a  place  of  ill  lame, 
■yenturi,  with  less  probability,  conjectures  that  Dante  would  imply,  that 
it  w-as  tlie  scene  of  much  licentious  merriment  among  those  who  fre- 
quented its  baths. 

V.  'Jl.  Under  ivJtose  monarch.] 

Credo  pudicitiam  Saturno  rege  moratam 

In  terris.  Juv.  Satir.  vi. 

V.  102.  His  head.]    Daniel,  ch.  ii.  32,  33. 

V.  133.   Whither.]     Ou  the  other  side  of  Purgatory. 

CANTO  XV, 

V.  10.  Chiarentana.]  A  part  of  the  Alps  where  the  Brenta  rises, 
which  river  is  much  swoln  as  soon  as  the  snow  begins  to  dissolve  on  the 
mountains. 

v.  28.  Brimetto.]  "  Ser  Brunetto,  a  Florentine,  the  secretary  or  chan- 
cellor of  the  city,  and  Dante's  pireceiitor,  hath  left  us  a  work  so  little 
read,  that  both  the  subject  of  it  and  the  language  of  it  have  been  mis- 
taken. It  is  in  the  French  spolcen  in  the  reign  of  St.  Louis,  under  the 
title  of  Tresor,  and  contains  a  species  of  philosophical  course  of  lectures 
divided  into  theory  and  practice,  or,  as  he  expresses  it,  v)i  enchaiisse- 
ment  des  chases  diiunes  et  hmnaines,"  &c.  Sir  R.  Clayton's  Translation 
of  Tenhove's  Memoirs  of  the  Medici,  vol.  i.  ch.  ii.  p.  104.  The  Tresor 
has  never  been  printed  in  the  original  language.  Tliere  is  a  fine  manu- 
script of  it  in  the  British  Museum,  with  an  illuminated  portrait  of  Bru- 
netto in  his  study  prefixed.  JIus.  Brit.  MSS.  17,  E.  1.  Tesor.  It  is 
divided  into  four  books  ;  the  first,  on  Cosmogony  and  Theology  ;  the 
second,  a  transPatiou  of  Aristotle's  Ethics  ;  the  third  on  Virtues  and 
Vices  ;  the  fourth,  on  Rhetoric.  For  an  interesting  memoir  relating  to 
this  work,  see  Hist,  de  I'Acad.  des  Inscrijjtions,  torn.  vii.  296. 

His  Tesoretto,  one  of  the  earliest  productions  of  Italian  poetry,  is  a 
curious  work,  not  unlike  the  writings  of  Chaucer  in  style  and  numbers, 
though  Bembo  remarks,  that  his  jnipil,  however  hirgely  he  had  stolen 
from  it,  could  not  have  much  enriched  himself.  As  it  is  perhaps  but 
little  known,  I  will  here  add  a  slight  sketch  of  it. 

Brunetto  describes  himself  as  returning  from  an  embassy  to  the  King 
of  S})ain,  on  which  be  had  been  sent  by  the  Gneli)h  party  from  Florence. 
On  the  plain  of  Ilonccsvalles  he  meets  a  scholar  on  a  bay  mule,  who 
tells  him  that  the  Guelfi  are  driven  out  of  the  city  with  great  loss. 


HELL.  375 

Struck  with  grief  at  these  mournful  tidings,  nnd  musing  witli  liis  liciul 
bent  downwards,  he  loses  his  road,  and  wanders  into  a  wood.  Here 
Nature,  whose  figure  is  described  with  sultliniity,  ajjpears,  an.d  discloses 
to  him  the  secrets  of  her  ojierations.  After  this  he  \\iinders  into  a 
desert  ;  but  at  lengtli  i)roceeds  on  liis  way,  under  the  jirfitection  of  a 
banner,  with  which  Nature  had  furnished  iiim,  till  on  the  thiid  day  he 
finds  himself  in  a  large  pleasant  champaign,  where  are  assembled  many 
emperors,  kings,  and  sages,  ft  is  the  habitation  of  Virtue  and  her 
daughters,  the  four  Cardinal  Virtues.  Here  Brunetto  sees  also  Courtesy, 
Bounty,  Loy.alty,  and  Prowess,  and  hears  the  instructions  they  give  to  a 
knight,  which  occupy  about  a  fourth  i)art  of  the  poem.  Leaving  this 
territorj',  he  passes  over  valleys,  mountains,  woods,  forests,  and  bridges, 
till  he  arrives  in  a  beautiful  valley  covered  with  flowers  on  all  sides,  and 
the  richest  in  the  world  ;  but  which  was  continually  shifting  its  api)ear- 
auce  from  a  round  figure  to  a  square,  from  obscurity  to  light,  and  from 
populousness  to  soltitude.  This  is  the  region  of  Pleasure,  or  Cupid, 
who  is  accomjianied  by  four  ladies,  Love,  Hope,  Fear,  and  Desire.  lu 
one  part  of  it  he  meets  with  Ovid,  and  is  instructed  by  him  how  to  con- 
quer the  passion  of  love,  and  to  escape  from  that  place.  After  his 
escape  he  makes  his  confession  to  a  friar,  and  then  leturns  to  the  forest 
of  visions  :  and  ascending  a  mountain,  he  meets  with  Ptolemy,  a  vener- 
able old  man.  Here  the  narrative  breaks  off.  The  poem  ends,  as  it 
began,  with  an  address  to  Rustico  di  Filippo,  on  whom  he  lavishes  every 
port  of  praise. 

It  has  been  observed,  that  Dante  derived  the  idea  of  opening  his 
poem  by  describing  himself  as  lost  in  a  wood,  from  the  Tesuretto  of  his 
master.  I  know  not  whether  it  has  been  remarked,  that  the  crime  of 
usury  is  branded  by  both  these  poets  as  offensive  to  God  and  Nature  : 
or  that  the  sin  for  which  Brunetto  is  condemned  by  his  pupil,  is  men- 
tioned in  the  Tesoietto  with  great  horror.  Dante's  twenty-fifth  sonnet 
is  a  jocose  one,  addressed  to  Brunetto.    He  died  in  1295 

V.  62.  Who  in  old  times  came  dozen  from  Fesolc]  See  G.  Villaui, 
Hist.  1.  iv.  c.  5.  and  Macchiav.  Hi.st.  of  Flor.  b.  ii. 

V.  89.  With  another  text.]  He  refers  to  the  prediction  of  Farinata,  in 
Canto  X. 

V.  110.  Priscian.]  There  is  no  reason  to  believe,  as  the  commentators 
observe,  that  the  granunarian  of  this  name  was  stained  with  the  vice 
imputed  to  him  ;  and  we  must  therefore  suppose  that  Dante  ])uts  the 
individual  for  the  species,  and  implies  the  frequency  of  the  crime  among 
those  who  abused  the  opportunities  which  the  education  of  youth 
afforded  them,  to  so  abominable  a  purpose. 

V.  111.  Fixinccsco.]  Son  of  Accorso,  a  Florentine,  celebrated  for  his 
skill  in  juiisi>rudence,  and  commonly  known  by  the  name  of  Acciir.xins. 

V.  113.  Him.']  Andrea  de'  Mozzi,  who,  that  his  scandalous  life  niigl.t 
be  less  exjiosed  to  observation,  was  translated  either  by  Nicholas  III.  or 
Boniface  VIH.  from  the  see  of  Florence  to  that  of  Vicenza,  throu.sih 
which  passes  the  river  Bacchiglione.  At  the  latter  of  these  places  he 
died. 

V.  114.   The  serranis'  servayit.]     Servo  de'  servi. 

So  Ariosto,  Sat.  3. 

Degli  servi 
lo  sia  il  gran  servo. 

V.  124.  I  commend  my  Treasure  <o  <7tee.]  Brunette's  great  work,  the 
Tresor. 

Sieti  raccomandato  '1  mio  Tesoro. 


■57()  NOTES. 

So  (iiiistu  do*  Coiiti,  in  liis  liflhi  IM;iiio,  Son.  "  Oorhi: '' 
Siavi  lacfoinniaiuliito  il  niio  Tcsoro. 

CANTO  XVI. 

V.  :^8.  Giinhlrailn.']  OnaMrada  was  tlio  daiislitrr  of  Bollinoiono  Berti, 
of  whom  mention  is  iiiado  in  tlie  rarndise,  Canto  XV.  and  XVI.  Ho 
was  of  the  fainily  of  liavi^nani,  a  hninc-h  of  the  Adimari.  Tlie  Kmpcror 
Otho  IV.  heinu'  at  a  festival  in  Florence,  wlieie  (Inaldrada  was  i)resent, 
was  struck  witli  her  l)oant.v  ;  and  inqtiirinLC  who  she  was,  was  answered 
by  Helliiicione,  that  she  was  the  dansliter  of  one  wlio,  if  it  was  his 
Majesty's  pleasure,  would  make  her  admit  the  honour  of  his  salute.  ( )ii 
oveVhearinsc  this,  she  arose  from  her  seat,  and  blushin;?,  in  an  animated 
tone  of  voice,  desired  her  father  that  lie  would  not  be  so  liberal  in  his 
ofTers.  for  that  no  man  should  ever  be  allowed  that  freedom,  cxoejit  him 
who  should  l)e  her  lawful  husband.  The  Emperor  was  not  less  deli.uhted 
\)y  her  resolute  modesty  than  he  had  before  been  by  the  loveliness  of 
her  person,  and  callins'to  him  (Inido,  one  of  his  barons,  gave  her  to  him 
in  niarri.age,  at  the  same  time  raisim^  him  to  the  rank  of  a  count,  and  be- 
stowing on  lier  the  whole  of  Casentino,  and  a  part  of  tlie  territory  of 
Romnuna,  as  her  portion.  Two  sons  were  the  offspring  of  this  union, 
Giiglielmo  and  Iluguieri,  the  hitter  of  wliom  was  father  of  Guidognerra, 
a  man  of  great  military  skill  and  jirowess  ;  who,  at  the  liead  of  four 
iiundred  Florentines  of  the  Gueliih  ])arty,  was  signally  instrumental  tv> 
the  victory  obtained  at  IJenevciito  by  Charles  of  Anjou,  over  ]Manfredi, 
King  of  Naples,  in  12()5.  One  of  tlie  con.sequences  of  this  victory  was 
the  expulsion  of  the  Ghibellini,  and  the  re-establishment  of  the  Guelfi  at 
Florence. 

V.  ?>Vi.  Mitny  n  nnhle  act.']     Comjiare  Tasso,  G.  L.  c.  i.  st.  1. 

V.  42.  AldohramU.]  Tegghiaio  Aldobrandi  ^^as  of  the  noble  family  of 
Adimari,  and  ninch  esteemed  for  his  military  talents.  He  endeavoured 
to  dissuade  tlie  Florentines  from  the  attack  which  they  meditated  against 
the  Siennese,  and  tlie  rejection  of  his  counsel  occasioned  the  memorable 
defeat  wliich  the  former  sustained  at  Montaperto,  and  the  consequent 
banishment  of  the  Guelfi  from  Florence. 

V.  45.  Rnsticnrcl]  Giacopo  Rusticucci,  a  Florentine,  remarkable  for 
his  opulence  and  the  generosity  of  his  spirit. 

V.  70.  Borsiere.']  GuglielmoBorsiere,  another  Florentine,  whom  Boc- 
caccio, in  a  story  which  he  relates  of  him,  terms  "  a  man  of  courteous 
and  elegant  manners,  and  of  great  readiness  in  conversation."  Dec. 
Giorn.  i.  Nov.  8. 

V.  84.   When  thou  icith  pleasure  shall  retrace  the  pasf] 
Quando  ti  giovera  dicere  io  fui. 

So  Tasso,  G.  L.  c.  xv.  st.  38. 

Quando  mi  giovera  narrar  altrui. 
Le  no  vita  vedute,  e  dire;  io  fui. 

V.  121.  Ever  to  that  truth.']  This  memorable  apophthegm  is  repeated 
by  Luigi  Pulci  and  Trissino. 

Senipre  a  quel  ver,  ch'  ha  faccia  di  menzogna 
E  ])iii  senno  tacer  la  lingua  cheta, 
Che  spesso  senza  colpa  fa  vergogna. 

Morgante  Mafjr;.  c.  xxiv.i 


nKT,L.  B77 

Ln,  verity,  olie  par  niPnsop;nfi, 
Si  dovrebbe  tacer  dall'  iiom  ch'  e  sassio. 

Italia  Lib.  c.  xvi. 

CANTO  XVII. 

V.  1.  The  fell  monster.']    Fraud. 

V.  53.  A  povch.']  A  purse,  wlieieon  the  armorial  beariiips  of  each  were 
emblazoned.  According  to  Laiidino,  our  poet  imiflies  tliat  the  usurer 
can  jjretend  to  no  other  honour,  than  such  as  he  derives  from  his  i)urse 
and  his  family. 

V.  57.  A  yellow  purse.']    The  arms  of  the  Gianfij^Iiazzi  of  Florence. 

V.  60.  Another.]  Those  of  the  Ubbriachi,  another  Florentine  family 
of  high  distinction. 

V.  62.  A  fat  and  aztn-e  s^cine.]  The  arms  of  the  Scrovigni  a  noble 
family  of  Padua. 

V.  (kj.   VitaUano.]    Vitaliano  del  Dente,  a  Paduan. 

V.  69.  That  noble  l-night.]  Giovanni  Bn^amonti,  a  Florenthie  usurer, 
the  most  infamous  of  Ids  time. 

CANTO  XVIII. 

V.  28.  With  vs  beyond.]  Beyond  the  middle  point  they  tended  the 
same  way  with  us,  but  their  ]ince  was  quicker  tlian  ours. 

V.  29.  F'eji  thus  the  Bomans.]  In  the  year  l.SOO,  Pojie  Boniface  VIII., 
to  remedy  the  inconvenience  occasioned  by  the  pre.--s  of  peoi)le,  who  were 
passing  over  the  bridge  of  St.  Angelo  duiing  the  time  of  the  Jubilee, 
caused  it  to  be  divided  lengthwise  by  a  imrtition,  and  ordered,  that  all 
those  who  were  going  to  St.  Peter's  should  keep  one  side,  and  thuse  re- 
turning the  other. 

V.  50.  Venedico.]  Venedico  Cacciaidniico,  a  Bolognese,  who  prevailed 
on  his  si.ster  Ghisola  to  prostitute  hejsclf  to  Obizzo  da  Este,  Marquis  of 
Ferrara,  whom  we  have  seen  among  the  tyrants.  Canto  XII. 

V.  62.  To  answer  S'i])i\.]  He  denotes  Bologna  by  its  situation  between 
the  rivers  Savena  to  the  east,  and  Reno  to  the  west  of  that  city;  and  by 
a  peculiarity  of  dialect,  the  use  of  the  affirinative  s/pa  instead  of  si. 

V.  90.  Ilypsipijle.]  See  .\pollonius  Rhodius,  1.  i.  and  Valerius  Flaccus, 
1.  ii.  Hypsipyle  deceived  the  other  women  by  concealing  her  father 
Thoas,  when  they  had  agreed  to  put  all  their  males  to  death. 

V.  120.  Ahssio'.]  Alessio,  of  an  ancient  and  consideiable  family  in 
Lucca,  called  tlie  fnternnnei. 

V.  130.  Thais.]  He  alludes  to  that  passage  in  the  Eunnchus  of  Terence, 
wliere  Tliraso  aslcs  if  Thais  was  obliged  to  him  for  the  present  he  h;id 
sent  her,  and  Gnatho  replies,  that  she  had  expressed  her  obligation  in 
the  most  forcible  terms. 

T.  Magiias  vero  agere  gratias  Thais  mihi  ? 

G.  Ingentes.  Evn.  a.  iii.  b.  i. 

CANTO  XIX. 

V.  18.  Saint  .John's  fair  dovfie.]  The  apertures  in  the  rock  were  of 
the  same  dimensions  as  the  fonts  of  St.  .John  the  liajilist  at  Florence,  one 
of  which,  Dante  says,  he  had  broken,  to  rescue  a  child  that  was  jilayiug 


878  N(>TKK. 

near  iind  foil  in     IIo  iiitimatos  tli;it  tlio  inotivo  of  liis  biciking  tlic  font 
liail  been  iiiulieioiisl.v  rciirosuiited  by  liirf  enemies. 

V.  Tio.  O  I  lit))  >/<«■('' !]  Tiie  spirit  niist:il<cs  D.into  for  P.oiiifape  VIII. 
who  was  thou  ahve,  and  wiio  he  did  not  expect  wmild  have  arrived  so 
Boon,  in  conscinience,  as  it  sliouUi  seem,  of  a  propliecy,  whicli  predicted 
tlic  death  of  that  I'ope  at  a  later  i)criod.     Koniface  died  in  II'-O.'!. 

V.  58.  /u  guile.']  "  Tlum  didst  presume  to  arrive  by  fraudulent  means 
at  th<!  papal  power,  and  afterwards  to  abuse  it." 

V.  71.  jiithe  niii/htif  nxiiille  I  icas  rob'd.]  Nicholas  III.  of  the  Ortdni 
family,  whom  the  poet  therefore  calls  "  figliuol  deir  or.sa,"  "  son  of  the 
she-bear,"     He  died  in  1281. 

V.  <S!).  Fromfirrtli  the  west,  a  shrphrrd-\i'ithovt  lav;.']  Bcrtrand  de  Got, 
Archbishop  of  Bonrdeaux,  who  su<'ioed(d  to  the  pontificate  in  i;505,  and 
asstnned  the  title  of  Clement  V.  He  transferred  the  holy  see  to  Aviynou 
in  loOS  (where  it  remained  till  137(5),  and  died  in  1314. 

V.  88.  A  nev)  J«.s))i.]     See  Maccabees,  b.  li.  c.  iv.  7,  8. 

V.  97.  Nov  Peter.]     Acts  of  the  Apostles,  c.  i.  26. 

V.  100.   T/ic  eoiKicmned  sdjil.]     Judas. 

V.  10.">.  Af/ainst  Cliaiies.]  Nicholas  III.  was  enraged  af];ainst  Charles  I. 
King  of  Sicily,  beciiuse  he  rejected  with  scorn  a  proposition  made  by 
that  Pope  for  an  alliance  between  their  families.  See  G.  Villani,  Hist. 
1.  vii.  c.  liv. 

V.  lOli.  Th'  Eranrjeli'ft.]  Rev.  c.  xvii.  1,  2,  3.  Compare  Petrarch.  Opera, 
fol.  ed.  Basil.  1554.  Epist.  sine  titulo  liber,  ep.  xvi.  p.  72!). 

V.  118.  Ally  Constantine .']  He  alludes  to  the  pretended  gift  of  the 
Lateran  by  Constantine  to  Silvester,  of  which  Dante  himself  seems  to 
imply  a  doubt,  in  his  treatise  "  De  Monarchia."  — "Ergo  scindere  Im- 
periiim,  Imperatori  non  licet.  Si  ergo  aliquae  dignitates  per  Constau- 
tinura  essent  alienat;"e  ^ut  dicunt)  ab  Imperio,"  &c.  1.  iii. 

The  gift  is  by  Ariosto  very  humorously  placed  in  the  moou,  among  the 
things  lost  or  abused  on  earth. 

Di  varj  tiori,  &c.  0.  F.  c.  xxxiv.  st.  80. 

Milton  has  translated  both  this  passage  and  that  iu  the  text.  Prose 
Works,  vol.  i.  p.  11.  ed.  1753. 


CANTO   XX. 

V.  11.  Eevers'd.]    Compare  Spenser,  F.  Q.  b.  i.  c.  viii.  st.  31. 

V.  30.  Be/ore -whose  eyes.]  Amphiaraiis,  one  of  the  seven  kings  who 
oesJeged  Thebes  He  is  said  to  have  been  swallowed  up  by  an  opening 
of  the  earth.  See  Lidgate's  Storie  of  Thebes,  Part  III.  where  it  is  told 
how  the  "  Bishop  Amphiaraiis  "  fell  down  to  hell. 

And  thus  the  devill  for  his  outrages, 
Like  his  desert  payed  him  his  wages. 

A  different  reason  for  his  being  doomed  tlius  to  perish  is  assigned  by 
Pindar. 

o  S'  'An'jiidpTqi,  &c.  2fem  ix. 

For  thee,  Amphiaraiis,  earth. 
By  Jove's  all-riving  thunder  cleft, 
Her  mighty  bosom  ojien'd  wide, 
Thee  and  thy  plunging  steeds  to  hide, 
Or  ever  on  thy  back  the  spear 
Of  Periclymenus  impress'd 


A  wound  to  shame  thy  warlike  breast : 

For  struck  witli  panic  fear 
The  gods'  own  children  flee. 

V.  37.  Tiresias.] 

Duo  magnoruni  viridi  eoeuntia  sylva 
Corpora  serpentiini  bacilli  violaverat  ictu,  &c. 

Ovid.  Met.  1.  iii. 

V.  43.  Arnns.^  Aruns  is  said  to  have  dwelt  in  the  mountains  of  Luni 
{from  whence  that  territory  is  still  called  Liinigiana),  above  Cairnni. 
celebrated  for  its  marble.  Lncan.  Phars.  1  i.  575.  So  Boccaccio,  in  the 
Fiaminetta,  1.  iii.  "  Quale  Arunte,"  &c.  "Like  Aruns,  who  amidst  the 
white  marbles  of  Luni,  contemplated  the  celestial  bodies  and  their 
motions.'' 

V.  50.  Manto.']  The  daughter  of  Tiresias  of  Tliebes,  a  city  dedicated  to 
Bacchus.  From  Jlanto,  JLantua,  the  country  of  Virgil,  derives  its  name. 
The  Poet  ]iroceeds  to  describe  the  situation  of  that  jjlace. 

V.  61.  Beticeen  the  vule.'\  The  lake  Benacus,  now  called  tlie  Lago  di 
Garda,  though  liere  said  to  lie  between  Garda,  Val  Camouica,  and  the 
Apeuniue,  is,  however,  very  distant  from  the  latter  two. 

V.  6o.  There  is  n  spot.']  Prato  di  Fame,  where  the  dioceses  of  Trento, 
Verona,  and  Brescia  met. 

V.  69.  Pesrhierrt.]  A  garrison  situated  to  the  south  of  the  lake, 
where  it  empties  itself  and  forms  the  JNIincius. 

V.  94.  Casnlodi's  mddness.]  Alberto  da  Casalodi,  who  had  got  pos- 
session of  Mantua,  was  persuaded  by  Pinamonte  Buonacossi,  that  he 
might  ingratiate  himself  with  the  jieople  by  banishing  to  their  own 
castles  the  nobles,  who  werg  obnoxious  to  them.  No  sooner  was  this 
done,  than  Pinamonte  put  himself  at  the  head  of  the  po[)ulace,  drove  out 
Casalodi  and  his  adherents,  and  obtained  the  sovereignty  for  himself. 

V.  111.  So  sings  my  tragic  strain.] 

Suspensi  Eurypilum  scitatum  oracnla  Phcebi 

Mittimus.  Virg.  JEneid.  ii.  14. 

V.  115.  Michael  Scot.]  Sir  Michael  Scott,  of  Balwearie,  astrologer  to 
the  Emperor  Frederick  IL  lived  in  the  thirteenth  century.  For  further 
particulars  relating  to  this  singuhir  man,  seeWarton's  History  of  English 
Poetry,  vol.  i.  diss.  ii.  and  sect.  ix.  p.  292,  and  the  Notes  to  ]\Ir.  Scott's 
"Lay  of  the  Last  Ministrel,"  a  poem  in  which  a  happy  use  is  made  of 
the  traditions  that  are  still  current  ia  North  Britain  concerning  him. 
He  is  mentioned  bj'  G.  ViUani.  Hist  1.  x.  c.  cv.  and  cxli.  and  I.  xii.  c. 
xviii.  and  by  Boccaccio,  Dec.  Giorn.  viii.  Nov.  9. 

V.  116.  Gvido  Bonatti.]  An  astrologer  of  Forli,  on  whose  skill  Guido 
da  Montefeltro,  lord  of  that  place,  so  much  relied,  that  he  is  rejwrted 
never  to  have  gone  into  battle,  except  in  the  hour  recommended  to  hin 
as  fortunate  by  Bonatti. 

Landino  and  Vellutello  speak  of  a  book  which  he  composed  on  the 
subject  of  his  art. 

V.  116.  Asdente.]  A  .shoemaker  at  Parma,  who  deserted  his  business 
to  practise  the  arts  of  divination. 

v.  123.  Cain  ivithfork  of  thorns.]  By  Cain  and  the  thorns,  or  what  is 
still  vulgarly  called  the  Man  in  the  Moon,  the  Poet  denotes  that  lu- 
minary. The  same  superstition  is  alluded  to  in  the  Paradise,  Canto  IL 
52.  The  curious  reader  may  consult  Brand  on  Popular  Antiquities,  4to. 
1813.  vol.  ii.  p.  476, 


380  '         NOTES. 

CANTO  xxr. 

V.  7.  In  the  Vcnrthnia'  an^cnfd.']  Compare  Riu'cellai,  Le  Api,  165,  and 
Dryrlt'irs  Aiiiiiis  Miialiilis,  st.  1  Hi.  &c. 

V.  .'57.  Oih;  "/ Smitd  Zilu's  cl'lcrx.]  The  elders  or  chief  iiiagistrates  o( 
Lucca,  wlierc  Santa  Zita  was  held  in  esjiecial  veneration.  The  name  o( 
this  sinner  is  snpi)ose<l  to  have  been  Mnitino  Botaio. 

V.  40.  Exrcpl  lliDituro,  htirti  rcrs.]  Thi.s  is  said  ironically  of  15ontui'o 
de'  Dati.  ISy  bartarrs  are  meant  peciilntois,  of  every  description  ;  all 
who  trallic  the  interests  of  tlie  luiblic  for  their  own  private  advantage. 

V.  48.  7s  other  sivimmiuc/  than  in  Servhio's  ivave-l 

Qui  si  niiota  altrinienti  clie  nel  Serchio. 
Serchio  is  the  river  that  flows  by  Lucca.     So  Piilci,  Morg.  Masf.  c.  xxiv. 
Qui  si  nnota  nel  sangne,  e  non  nel  Serchio. 

V.  f)2.  From  Caprona.]  The  surrender  of  the  castle  of  Capron.a  to  the 
combined  forces  of  Florence  and  I^ucca,  on  condition  that  tlie  garrison 
should  march  ont  in  safety,  to  which  event  Dante  was  a  witness,  took 
place  in  1290.    See  (J.  Villain,  Hist.  1.  vii.  c.  136. 

V.  109.  Yesterdui/.]  This  jjassage  fixes  the  *ra  of  Dante's  descent  at 
Good  Friday,  in  the  year  l."00  (34  years  from  our  blessed  Lord's  incar- 
nation being  added  to  1206),  and  at  the  thirty-fifth  year  of  our  poet':} 
age.     See  Canto  I.  v.  1. 

The  awful  event  alluded  to,  the  Evangelists  inform  us,  happened  "at 
the  ninth  hour,"  that  is,  our  sixth,  when  "the  rocks  were  rent,"  and 
the  convulsion,  according  to  Dante,  was  felt  even  in  the  depths  in  Hell. 
See  Canto  XIL  38. 

CANTO  XXH, 

V.  16.  In  the  church.]  This  proverb  is  repeated  by  Pulci,  Morg. 
Magg.  c.  xvii. 

V.  47.  Born  in  Navarre's  domain.']  The  name  of  this  peculator  is  said 
to  have  been  Ciampolo. 

V.  51.  Tlie  good  king  TJiibavlt.]  "  Thibanlt  I.  King  of  Navarre,  died 
on  the  8th  of  June,  1233.  as  much  to  be  commended  for  the  desire  he 
showed  of  aiding  the  war  In  the  Holy  Land,  as  reprehensible  and  faulty 
for  his  design  of  opi)ressing  the  rights  and  pi'ivileges  of  the  churcli,  on 
which  account  it  is  said  that  the  w  hole  kingdom  was  under  an  interdict 
for  the  space  of  three  entire  years.- — Thibanlt  undoubtedly  merits  praise, 
as  for  his  other  endowments,  so  especiallj-  for  his  cultivation  of  the  lib- 
eral arts,  his  exercise  and  knowledge  of  music  and  poetry,  in  which  he 
go  much  excelled,  tliat  he  was  accustomed  to  compose  verses  and  sing 
them  to  the  viol,  and  to  exhibit  his  poetical  comjwsitions  publicly  in  his 
palace,  that  they  might  be  criticised  by  all."  Mariana,  History  of 
Spain,  b.  xiii.  c.  9. 

An  account  of  Thibanlt,  and  two  of  his  songs,  with  what  were  prob- 
ably the  original  melodies,  may  be  seen  in  Dr.  Burney's  History  of 
Music,  v.  ii.  c.  iv.  His  poems,  which  are  in  the  French  language,  were 
edited  by  M.  I'Eveque  de  la  Ravalliere.  Paris.  1742.  2  vol.  V2mn.  Dante 
twice  cpiotes  one  of  his  verses  in  tlie  Treatise  de  Vulg.  Eloq.  1.  i.  c.  ix 
and  1.  ii.  c.  v.  and  refers  to  him  again,  1.  ii.  c.  vi. 

From  "  the  good  king  Thibanlt"  are  descended  the  good,  but  more 
unfortunate    monarch,   Louis   XVI.  of  France,   and  consecpientiy   tlie 


HELL.  381 

present  louitiniute  sovereign  of  tliat  realm.     See  TTcnault,  Abrcge  Cliioii. 
1252,  2,  4.' 

V.  SO.  Tlie  friar  Gomita.']  He  was  entrusted  Ly  Nino  de'  Visconti 
witli  tlic  government  of  (Jallnra,  one  of  tlie  four  jurisdictions  into  wliicli 
Sardinia  was  divided.  Having  his  master's  enemies  in  his  jiowcr.  lie 
toolc  a  hribe  from  tliem,  and  allowed  them  to  esoai)e.  Mention  of  Nino 
Avill  recur  in  tlie  Notes  to  Canto  XXXHI.  and  in  the  rmgatory,  Canto 

viir. 

V.  88.  Michel  Zanche.]  Tlie  president  of  Logodoro,  another  of  the 
four  Sardinian  jurisdictions.     See  Canto  XXXHI. 


CANTO  xxni. 

V.  5.  jF.nop's  fable.']  The  fable  of  the  frog,  who  offered  to  carry  the 
mouse  across  a  ditch,  with  the  intention  of  drowning  him,  when  luith 
were  carried  off  by  a  kite.  It  is  not  among  those  Greek  Fables  Avliich  go 
under  the  name  of  yEsop. 

V.  6.'!.  Moiil's  in  Volofpie.]    They  wore  their  cowls  unnsiially  large. 

V.  ()().  Frcdeiick's.]  The  Emperor  Frederick  H.  is  said  to  have  pun- 
ished those  who  were  guilty  of  high  treason,  by  wrajiping  thciii  up  in 
lead,  and  casting  them  into  a  furnace. 

V.  101.  Our  bonnets  (/lecmiiiif/ hrif/hl  with  orange  hue.']  It  is  observed 
by  Ventiiri,  that  the  word  "ranee"  does  not  liere  signify  "rancid  or 
disgustful,"  as  it  is  exphiined  by  the  old  commentators,  but  "orange- 
coloured,"  in  which  sense  it  occurs  in  the  Purgatory,  Canto  IL  9. 

V.  104.  Joyoiisfrictrs.]  "  Those  who  ruled  the  city  of  Florence  on  the 
part  of  the  Ghibillines,  perceiving  this  discontent  ancl  murmuring,  which 
they  were  fearful  mifiht  produce  a  rebellion  against  themselves,  in  order 
to  satisfy  the  people,  made  choice  of  two  knights,  Frati  Godenti  (joyous 
friars)  of  Bologna,  on  whom  they  conferred  the  chief  iiower  in  Florence, 
one  named  M.  Catalano  de'  Malavolti,  the  other  M.  Lodeiinj^o  di  Lian- 
dolo  ;  one  an  adhei'ent  of  the  Guelph,  the  other  of  the  Ghiljelliiie  party. 
It  is  to  be  remarked,  that  the  Joyous  Friars  were  called  Knights  of  St. 
Mary,  and  became  knights  on  taking  that  habit  :  their  robes  were  white, 
the  mantle  sable,  and  the  arms  a  white  field  and  red  cross  with  t/ivo 
stars  :  their  office  was  to  defend  widows  and  orphans  ;  they  were  to  act 
as  mediators  ;  they  had  internal  regulations  like  other  religious  bodies. 
The  above-mentioned  M.  Loderingo  was  the  founder  of  that  order.  But 
it  was  not  long  before  they  too  well  deserved  the  ajipellation  given 
them,  and  were  found  to  be  more  bent  on  enjoying  themseh  es  than  on 
any  other  subject.  These  two  friars  were  called  in  by  the  Florentines, 
and  had  a  residence  assigned  them  in  the  palace  belonging  to  the  jieople 
over  against  the  Abbey.  Such  was  the  dejjendence  placed  on  the 
character  of  their  order,  that  it  was  expected  they  would  be  impartial, 
and  -would  save  the  commonwealth  any  unnecessary  expense  •.  instead 
of  which,  though  inclined  to  opposite  parties,  they  secretly  and  hyjio- 
critically  concurred  in  promoting  their  own  advantage  rather  than  the 
public  good  "     G.  Villani,  b.  vii.  c.  13.     This  happened  in  1'2(3(!. 

V.  lib.  Gardinc/o'.s  vicinage.]  The  name  of  that  part  of  the  city  which 
was  inhal)itcd  by  the  iiowerfiil  Ghibelline  family  of  Uberti,  and  de- 
str(>ye<l  under  the  partial  and  iniquitous  administration  of  Catalano  and 
Loderingo. 

v.  117.  That  pierced  spirit.]    Caiaphas. 


382  NOTES. 

V.  124.  'llm  father  of  Ms  consort ^     Annas,  fatlicr-in-law  to  Caiaplias. 
V.  14().  lie  is  a  liar.]    John,  e.  *iii.  44.     Dauto  had    perhaps  heard 
this  text  Iroiu  oue  of  the  pulpits  in  lioloyiia. 

CANTO  XXIV. 

V.  1.  In  the  year's  early  nonar/e.]     "At  the  latter  part  of  January, 
when  the  sun  enters  into  Aquarius,  and  the  cipiinox  is  drawiii,;;  near, 
when  the  hoar-frosts  in  the  morning  often  wear  the  appearance  of  snow, 
but  are  melted  hy  the  risinsj  sun." 
V.  51.   Vanquish  (hy  tveariness.] 

Quill  corpus  onustum 
Hesternis  vitiis  aninuiui  quoque  pnrgravat  iinS., 
Atque  aftigit  huiui  divinai  particulani  aurse. 

Ilor.  Sat.  ii.  1.  ii.  78. 
V.  82.  Of  her  sands.]     Compare  Lucan,  Phars.  1.  ix.  703. 
V.  92.  Heliotrope.]     The  occult  properties  of  this  stone  are  described 
by  Solinus,  c.  xl.  and  by  Boccaccio,  in  his  humorous  tale  of  Calandrino. 
Desani.  G.  viii.  N.  3. 

In  Chiabrera's  Ruggiero,  Scaltrimento  begs  of  Sofia,  who  is  sending 
him  ou  a  perilous  errand,  to  lend  him  the  heliotrope. 
In  mia  man  fida 
L'  elitropia,  per  cui  possa  involarmi 
Secoudo  11  mlo  talento  agll  occhi  altrui. 

c.  vi. 
Trust  to  my  hand  the  heliotrope,  by  which 
I  may  at  will  from  others'  eyes  conceal  me. 
Compare  Ariosto,  II  Negromante,  a.  3.  s.  .3.       Pulci,  Morg.  Magg.  c. 
XXV.  and  Fortiguerra,  Ricciardetto,  c.  x.  st.  17. 

Gower,  in  his  Confessio  Amantis,  lib.  vii.  enumerates  it  among  the 
jewels  iu  the  diadem  of  the  sun. 

Jaspis  and  helitropius. 
V.  104.  The'  Arabian  phcenix.]    This  Is  translated  from  Ovid,  Metam. 

1.  XV. 

Una  est  quse  repar.it,  seque  ipsa  reseminat  ales,  &c. 

See  also  Petrarch,  Canzone  ; 

"  Qua!  piu,"  &c. 

V.  120.  Vannl  Fiicci.]  He  is  said  to  have  been  an  illegitimate  off- 
spring of  the  family  of  Lazari  in  Pistoia,  and,  liaviug  robbed  the  sacristy 
of  the  church  of  St.  James  iu  that  city,  to  have  charged  Vauiii  della 
No'ia  with  the  sacrilege,  in  consequence  of  which  accusation  the  latter 
suffered  death. 

V.  142.  Pistoia.]  "  In  May  1301,  the  Bianchi  party  of  Pistoia,  with 
the  assistance  and  favor  of  the  Bianchi  who  ruled  Florence,  drove  out 
the  Neri  party  from  the  forii;er  place,  destroying  their  houses,  palaces, 
and  farms."     Giov.  ViUaiii,  Hist.  1.  viii.  c   xliv. 

V.  144.  From  Valdimar/ra.]  The  commentators  explain  this  propiieti- 
cal  threat  to  allude  to  the  victory  obtained  by  tlie  Marquis  Marcello 
Malaspiua  of  Valdiuiagra  (a  tract  of  country  now  called  the  Lunigiaua), 
who  put  himself  at  the  head  of  the  Neri,  and  defeated  their  oi)poiients, 
the  Bianchi,  in  the  Cumpo  Piceno  near  Pistoia,  soon  alter  the  occurrence 


HELL.  383 

related  in  the  preceding  note.  Of  tliis  ens'isenieiit  I  find  no  niention  in 
Villani.  Currado  Malaspina  is  introduced  in  the  cislith  (Janto  of  the 
Pnrgatory  ;  where  it  ujipears  tliat,  althoit„'li  on  the  present  occasion 
tliey  esponsed  contrary  sides,  st)nie  iuij)ortant  favours  were  ne\'ertlieles8 
conferred  hy  tiiat  family  on  our  poet  at  a  subsequent  period  of  his  exilo 
in  1307. 

CANTO  XXV. 

V.  1.  The  Smner.']    So  Trissino. 

Poi  facea  con  le  man  le  fiche  al  cielo 
Dicendo  :  Togli,  Iddio  ;  che  puoi  piii  farmi  ? 

L'llal.  Lib.  c.  xii. 
V.  12.  Tliy  seed.]    Thy  ancestry. 
V.  15.  Not  hiiii.']    Capaneus.    Canto  XIV. 

V.  18.  On  Muremma's  marsh.]    An  extensive  tract  near  the  sea-shoro 
in  Tuscany. 
V.  24.  Cams.]    Virgil,  ^n.  1.  viii.  193. 

V.  31.  A  himdved  blozvs.]  Less  than  ten  blows,  out  of  the  hundred 
Hercules  gave  him,  had  dejirived  him  of  feeling. 

V.  39.  C'ianfa.]    He  is  said  to  have  been  of  the  family  of  Donati  at 
Florence. 
V.  57.  Thus  up  the  shrinlcinfj  paper.] 

— All  my  bowels  crumble  up  to  dust. 
1  am  a  scribbled  form,  drawn  with  a  pen 
Upon  a  parchment ;  and  against  this  fire 
Do  I  shrink  up. 

Shakspeare,  K.  John,  a.  v.  s.  7. 
V.  61.  Af/nello-]    Agnello  Brunelleschi. 
V.  77.  In  that  part.]    The  navel. 
V.  81.  As  if  by  sleep  orfev'rous  fit  assail'd.] 
O  Rome  !  thy  head 
Is  drown' d  in  sleep,  and  all  thy  body  fev'ry. 

Ben  Jonson's  Catiline. 
V.  85.  Lncan.]    Phars.  1.  ix.  706  and  793. 
V.  87.   Or  id.]     Metain.  1.  iv.  and  v. 

T.  121.  Jlis  sharpenhl  visaf/e.]     Compare  Milton,  P.  L.  b.  x.  511,  &c. 
V.  131.  Buoso.]     He  is  also  said  to  have  been  of  the  Donati  family. 
V.  1.38.  Sciancato.]    Puccio  Sciancato,  a  noted  robber,  whose  faniily, 
Venturi  says,  he  has  ]iot  been  able  to  discover. 

V.  140.  Gaville.]  France.-co  Guercio  Cavalcante  was  killed  at  Gaville, 
near  Florence  ;  and  in  revenge  of  his  death  several  inhabitants  of  that 
district  were  put  to  death. 


CANTO  XXVI 

V.  7.  Bvt  if  our  minds.'] 

Nanique  sub  Anroram.  jam  d'ormitante  lucerna, 
Somnia  quo  cerui  tempore  vera  solent. 

Ovid,  Episi.  xix. 


884  NOTES. 

The  same  poetical  Riipcrstition  is  alluded  to  in  the  Purgatory,  Canto 
IX.  and  XXVll. 

V.  0.  Shalt  feel  what  Prato.]  The  poet  prognosticates  the  calamities 
vhich  were  soon  to  befal  his  native  city,  and  which,  he  says,  even  her 
noait'st  noighlior,  Prato,  would  wish  her.  The  calamities  more  jiaiticn- 
laily  pointed  at,  ai'c  said  to  bo  the  fall  of  a  wooden  bridge  over  the 
Arno,  in  May,  lo04,  wiiere  a  large  multitude  were  assembled  to  witness 
a  representation  of  hell  and  the  infernal  torments,  in  consequenct!  of 
which  accident  many  lives  were  lost ;  and  a  conflagration,  that  in  the 
fuUowing  month  destroyed  more  than  seventeen  hundred  houses,  many 
of  them  sumptuous  buildings.     See  G.  Villani,  Hist.  1.  viii.  c.  70  and  71. 

V  2'i.  More  than  I  atn  ivont.]  '""When  I  reflect  on  the  punishment 
allotted  to  tiiose  who  do  not  give  sincere  and  uiuight  advice  to  oHk-i's.  \ 
am  more  anxiou.s  than  ever  not  to  abuse  to  so  bad  a  purpose  those  talents, 
whatever  they  may  be,  which  Nature,  or  rather  Providence,  has  I'on- 
ferrod  on  me.''  It  is  probable  that  this  declaration  was  the  resuH  of  real 
I'eeiing  in  the  mind  of  Dante,  whose  political  character  would  have  given 
great  wei.i;ht  to  any  opinion  or  paity  he  had  esitonsed,  and  to  whom  in- 
digence and  exile  might  have  offered  strong  tem[)tations  to  deviate  fi-om 
that  line  of  conduct  which  a  strict  sense  of  duty  prescribed. 

V.  35.  As  he,  v)hosc  wrom/s.']    Kings,  b.  ii.  c.  ii. 

V.  54.  Ascendiiif/  from  (hat  funeral  pHe.]  The  flame  is  said  to  have 
divided  on  the  funeral  pile  which  consumed  the  bodies  of  F.teocles  and 
Polyuices,  as  if  conscious  of  the  enmity  that  actuated  them  while  living. 

Ecce  iterum  fratris,  &c. 

Statitis,  Tlich.  1.  xii. 
Osteudens  coufectas  flanima,  &c. 

Lucan,  Pharsal.  1.  1.  145. 

V.  GO.  The  ambush  of  the  horse.]  "The  ambush  of  the  wooden  hor.«e, 
that  caused  .tineas  to  qint  the  city  of  Troy  and  seek  his  fortune  in  Italy, 
wliere  his  descendants  founded  tlie  Roman  empii-e. " 

V.  91.  Caieta.]    Virgil,  Ji^neid.  1.  vii.  1. 

V.  93.  Nor  fondness  for  imj  son.]  Imitated  by  Tasso,  G.  L.  c,  viii. 
Bt.  7. 

Ne  timor  di  fatica  6  di  periglio, 
Ne  vaghezza  del  regno,  ne  pietade 
Del  vecchio  genitor,  si  degno  affetto 
Intiepedir  nel  generoso  petto. 

This  imagined  voyage  of  Ulysses  into  the  Atlantic  is  alluded  to  bj 
PulcL 

E  sopratutto  cominendava  Ulisse, 
Che  per  vedor  nell'  altro  mondo  gisse. 

Morg.  Magg.  c.  xxv 
And  by  Tasso,  G.  L.  c.  xv.  25. 
V.  lOG.   The  strait  pass.]    The  straits  of  Gibraltar. 
V.  122.  Made  our  oars  goings.]     So  Chialjrera,  Canz.  l"]roiche,  xili. 

Faro  de'  remi  un  volo. 
And  Tasso.  Ibid.  2G. 
V.  128.  A  mountain  dim.]    The  mountain  of  Purgatory 


HELL,  385 

CANTO  XXVII. 

V.  6.  The  Sicilian  Bull]  The  eugiue  of  torture  invcuted  bj'  Perillus, 
for  the  tyrant  Phalaris. 

V.  20.  Of  the  mountains  there.'\    Moiitefoltro. 

V.  38.  Polenta's  eagle.]  Guide  Novello  da  Polenta,  who  bore  an  eagle 
for  his  coat  of  arms.  The  name  of  Polenta  was  derived  from  a  castle  ho 
called  iu  the  neighbourhood  of  Brittonoro.  Cervia  is  a  small  maritime 
city,  about  fifteen  miles  to  the  south  of  Kiivenua.  Guido  was  the  son  of 
Ostasio  da  Polenta,  and  made  himself  master  of  Ravenna  in  I'ifio.  In 
1322  he  was  deprived  of  his  sovereignty,  and  died  at  Bologna  in  the  year 
following.  This  last  and  most  munificent  patron  of  Dante  is  himself 
enumerated,  by  the  historian  of  Italian  literature,  among  the  poets  of 
his  time.  Tiraboschi,  Storia  della  Lett.  Ital.  t.  v.  1.  iii.  c.  ii.  §  13.  The 
passage  in  the  text  might  have  removed  the  uncertainty  which  Tirabos- 
chi expressed,  respecting  the  duration  of  Guido's  absence  from  Rjivenna, 
when  he  was  driveu  from  that  city  in  1295,  by  the  arms  of  Pietro,  arch- 
bishop of  Monreale.  It  must  evidently  have  been  very  short,  since  his 
government  is  here  represented  (in  1300)  as  not  having  suffered  any 
material  disturbance  for  many  years. 

V.  41.  The  land.]  The  territory  of  Forli,  the  inhabitants  of  which,  in 
1282,  were  enabled,  by  the  statagem  of  Guido  da  Montefeltro,  who  then 
governed  it,  to  defeat  with  great  slaughter  the  French  army  by  which  it 
had  been  besieged.  See  G.  Villain,  1.  vii.  c.  81.  The  poet  informs 
Guido,  its  former  ruler,  that  it  is  now  in  the  ijossession  of  Sinibaldo 
Ordolaffl,  or  ArdelafH,  whom  he  designates  by  his  coat  of  arms,  a  lion 
vert. 

V.  43.  The  old  mastiff  of  Verruchio  and  tlie  yoimg.]  Malatesta  and 
Malatestino  his  son,  lords  of  Rimini,  called,  from  their  ferocity,  the 
mastiffs  of  Verruchio,  which  was  the  name  of  their  castle.  Malatestino 
was  perhaps  the  husband  of  Francesca,  daughter  of  Guido  Novello  da 
Polenta.    See  Notes  to  Canto  V.  v.  113. 

V.  44.  Montagna.]  Montagna  de'  Parcitati,  a  noble  knight,  and  leader 
of  the  Ghihelline  party  at  Rimini,  murdered  bj'  Malatestino. 

V.  4(3.  Lamone's  city  and  Santerno's.]  Lamone  is  the  river  at  Faenza, 
and  Santerno  at  Iniohu 

V.  47.  TJie  lion  of  the  snoicy  lair.]  Machinardo  Pagano,  whose  arms 
were  a  lion  azure  on  a  field  argent  ;  mentioned  again  in  the  Purgatory, 
Canto  XIV.  122.  See  G.  Villaui  passim,  where  he  is  called  Machinardo 
da  Susinana. 

V.  50.  Whose  flank  is  loash'd  of  Savio's  wave-]  Cesena,  situated  at  the 
foot  of  a  mountain,  and  washed  by  the  river  Savio,  that  often  deaceudd 
with  a  swoln  and  rajiid  stream  from  the  Apennine. 

V.  (>4.  A  man  of  arms.]    Guido  da  Montefeltro. 

V.  (58.   The  high  priest.]    Boniface  VIII. 

V.  72.  The  nature  of  the  lion  than  the  fox.] 

Noil  f  uron  leonine  ma  di  volpe. 

So  Pulci,  Morg.  Magg.  c.  xix. 

E  furon  le  sue  opre  e  le  sue  colpe 
Non  creder  leonine  nia  di  volpe. 

V.  81.  The  chief  of  the  ncio  Pharisees.]  Boniface  VIII.  whose  enmity 
to  the  family  of  Colonna  promjitcd  him  to  destroy  their  houses  near 
the  Lateral!.  Wishing  to  obtain  ]n)sscssiou  of  their  other  scat,  I'enes- 
trlno,  he  consulted  with  Guido  da  Montefeltro  how  he  might  accomplish 

'25 


386  woTi])6. 

hlH  piirpoHO,  offoHnp;  him  ftt  tho  Kinio  tliiio  iibsolutloii  for  Ills  jKiHt  Bins, 
an  well  as  for  llwil  vvliicli  lie  was  tlicii  t('iii|itiii.L:  liiiu  to  coinniit.  (Jiiido'H 
advicii  was,  tliat  kind  words  and  fair  proiiiisL's  would  put  his  oiicniieH 
into  his  jiowor  ;  and  tliey  at'cordin.u'ly  soon  afterwards  fell  into  the  snaro 
laid  for  them,  a.J).  li:"J8."    Sec  G.  Viilaiii,  1.  viii.  c.  23. 

V.  84.  I^^or  against  Acre  one 

Iladfovf/ht.] 

He  alludes  to  the  renegade  Christians,  l\v  whom  the  Sar.aceiis,  in 
Ajiri'.,  ]2'.tl,  were  assisted  to  recover  St.  .Fohn  d'Aore,  tho  last  possession 
of  tho  Christians  in  the  Holy  Land.  The  rejj;ret  expressed  by  the  Flor- 
entine aiinali.^t,  G.  Villani,  for  the  loss  of  this  valuable  fortress,  is  well 
worthy  of  t)bservation,  1.  vii.  c.  144. 

V.  S'.i.  As  in  Sararlc,  Constantinn  besowjht.]  So  in  Dante's  treatise 
I)e  JMonarchia  :  "  Dicunt  quidain  adhiio,  quod  Constantiiuis  Iinjieratoi-, 
niimdatus  a  lejinl  interce.ssione  Sylvestri,  tunc  sunimi  jiontificis,  imperii 
eedeni,  scilicet  liomani,  donavit  ecclosia?,  cum  multis  aliis  imperii  digui- 
tatibus."     Lib.  iii. 

V.  101.  My  iyredccessor.]    Cclestine  V.    See  Notes  to  Canto  HL 

CANTO   XXVIU. 

V.  8.  In  that  long  tear.]  Tho  war  of  Hannibal  in  Italy.  "  When 
Mago  brought  news  of  his  victories  to  Cartliage,  in  order  to  niako  his 
Buccesses  more  easily  credited,  he  commanded  tho  golden  rings  to  be 
poured  out  in  the  senate  house,  whicli  made  so  large  a  heap,  that,  as 
some  relate,  they  filled  three  modii  and  a  half.  A  more  probable  ac- 
count represents  them  not  to  have  exceeded  one  modins."  Livy,  Hist. 
1.  xxiii.  12. 

V.  12.  Guiscard's  Norman  steel.']  Robert  Gniscard,  who  conquered 
tho  kingdom  of  Naples,  and  died  in  1110.  G.  Villani,  1.  iv.  c.  18.  lie  is 
introduced  in  the  Paradise,  Canto  XVIII. 

V.  13.  And  those  the  rest.]  Tho  army  of  Manfredi,  which,  through 
the  treachery  of  tlie  Apulian  troops,  was  overcome  by  Charles  f)f  Anjou 
in  1265,  and  fell  in  such  numbers,  that  the  bones  of  the  slain  were  still 
gathered  near  Ceperano.  G.  Villani,  1.  vii.  c.  9.  See  the  Purgatory, 
Canto  III. 

V.  16.  0  Tagliocozzo.]  He  alludes  to  the  victory  which  Charles  gained 
over  Couradino,  by  the  sage  advice  of  the  Sieur  de  Valeri,  in  1268.  G. 
Villani,  1.  vii.  c.  27. 

V.  32.  AIL]    The  disciple  of  Mohammed. 

V.  53.  Dolcino.]  "In  1305,  a  friar,  called  Dolcino,  who  belonged  to  no 
regular  order,  contrived  to  raise  in  Novara,  in  Lombardy,  a  large  com- 
pany of  the  meaner  sort  of  people,  declaring  himself  to  be  a  true  api:)stle 
of  Christ,  and  promulgating  a  community  of  property  and  of  wives, 
with  many  other  such  heretical  doctrines.  He  blamed  the  pope,  cardi- 
nals, and  other  i)relates  of  the  holy  church,  for  not  observing  their  duty, 
nor  leading  the  angelic  life,  and  affirmed  that  he  ought  to  bo  pope.  He 
was  followed  by  more  than  three  thousand  men  and  women,  who  lived 
promiscuously  on  the  mountains  together,  like  beasts,  and,  when  they 
wanted  provisions,  supplied  themselves  by  depredation  and  rapine. 
This  lasted  for  two  years  till,  many  being  struck  with  conipiinction  at 
the  dissolute  life  they  led,  his  .sect  was  much  diminished  ;  and  through 
failure  of  food,  and  the  severity  of  the  snows,  he  was  taken  by  the 


HELL.  3t*7 

people  of  Novnra,  and  burnt,  w  itli  Mai>;arita  liin  (»m]>anion,  and  in;iny 
other  men  and  women  whom  hirt  errors  liad  reduced."  G.  Villani,  i. 
viii.  c.  84. 

Landino  observes,  that  he  was  possessed  of  singular  eloquence,  :nid 
that  both  he  and  Margarita  endured  their  fate  w  ith  a  finnnci-s  woitliy 
of  a  better  cause.  For  a  further  account  of  hiui,  see  Muraturi  Rer.  Ital. 
Script,  t.  ix.  p.  427. 

V.  69.  MecUcina.']  A  place  in  the  territory  of  Bologna.  Piero  fonienti  d 
dissensions  among  the  inhabitants  of  that  city,  and  among  the  leaders 
of  the  neighbouring  states. 

V.  70.   The  pleasant  land.l     Lombardy. 

V.  72.  The  txvuin.']  Guido  del  Cassero  and  Angiolello  da  Cagnano,  two 
of  the  worthiest  and  most  distinguished  citizens  of  Fano,  were  in^  ited 
by  Malatestino  da  Rimini  to  an  entertainment,  on  pretence  tliat  he  had 
some  important  lousiness  to  transact  with  them  :  and,  according  to  in- 
structions given  by  hiiu,  they  were  drowned  iu  their  passiige  near  Cat- 
tolica,  between  Rimini  and  Fano. 

V.  85.  Focara's  iciiid.]  Focara  is  a  mountain,  from  which  a  wind 
blows  that  is  peculiarly  dangerous  to  the  navigators  of  that  coast. 

V.  J)4.  The  doubt  in  Ccesar's  mind.]  Curio,  whose  speech  (according 
to  Lucan)  determined  Julius  Casar  to  proceed  when  he  had  arrived  at 
Rimini  (the  ancient  Arimiuum),  and  doubted  whether  he  should  prose- 
cute the  civil  war. 

ToUe  moras  :  semper  nocuit  differre  paratis. 
k  Pharsal.  1.  I  281. 

V.  102.  Mosca.']  Buondelmoute  was  engaged  to  marry  a  lady  of  the 
Amidei  familj',  but  broke  his  promise,  and  united  himself  to  one  of  the 
Donati.  This  was  so  much  resented  by  the  former,  that  a  meeting  of 
themselves  and  their  kinsmen  was  held,  to  consider  of  the  best  means  of 
revenging  the  insult.  Mosca  degli  Uberti  persuaded  them  to  resolve  on 
the  assassination  of  Buondelmoute,  exclaiming  to  them  "  the  thing  once 
done,  there  is  an  end."  The  counsel  and  its  effects  were  the  source  of 
many  terrible  calamities  to  the  state  of  Florence.  "  This  murder,"  says 
G.  Villani,  1.  v.  c.  38,  "was  the  cause  and  beginning  of  the  accursed 
Guelph  and  Ghibelliue  parties  in  Florence."  It  happened  in  1215.  See 
the  Paradise,  Canto  XVI.  139. 

V.  111.  The  boon  companion.'] 

What  stronger  breastplate  than  a  heart  untainted  ? 

Shakspeare,  2  Hen.  VI.  a.  iii.  b.  2. 

V.  130.  Bertrand.]  Bertrand  de  Born,  Vicomto  de  Hautefort,  near 
Perigueux  in  Guienne,  who  incited  John  to  rebel  against  his  lather, 
Henry  II.  of  England.  Bertrand  liolds  a  distinguished  phice  among  the 
Provencal  poets.  He  is  quoted  in  Dante,  "  De  Vulg.  Eloq."  1.  ii.  c.  2. 
For  the  translation  of  some  extracts  from  his  poems,  see  Millot,  Hist. 
Litteraire  des  Troubadours,  t.  i.  p.  210  :  but  the  historical  parts  of  that 
work  are,  I  believe,  not  to  Le  relied  on. 

CANTO  XXIX. 

V,  26.  Geri  of  Bello.]  A  kinsman  of  the  Poet's,  who  was  murdered  by 
one  of  the  Sacchetti  family.  His  being  placed  here,  may  be  considered 
as  a  proof  that  Dante  was  more  impaitial  iu  the  allotment  of  his  punish' 
ments  than  has  generally  been  supposed. 


"T 


388  NOTKS. 

V.  44.  As  ivero  the  tonneiU.]  It  is  vory  ])robal)lc  tliat  t)icso  lines  ga\e 
Milt4)n  tlio  idea  of  liiH  celeliratod  (Icscription  : 

Immcdiatfily  a  place 
Ik'fore  tlioir  eyes  ai)i)far'd,  sad.  iioisoino,  dark, 
A  lazar-lioiise  it  seem'd,  \vliereiii  were  laid 
Numbers  of  all  dlscaa'd,  all  maladies,  &c. 

P.  L.  b.  xi.  477. 

V.  45.  Valdirhiana.]  The  valley  throiiijh  wliich  j>asses  ttie  river 
Cliiana,  bounded  by  Arezzo,  Cortona,  Montcpnk-i.-uio,  and  ('liiusi.  In 
tlie  heat  of  autumn  it  was  formerly  rendered  unwholesome  by  tlu;  sta;^- 
nation  of  the  water,  but  has  since  been  drained  by  the  Emperor  Leopold 
If.  The  Cliian;i  is  ntentioned  as  a  remarkably  si ugj^ish  stream,  in  the 
Paradise,  Canto  XIII.  21. 

v.  47.  Maranma  s  pestilent  fen.']     See  Note  to  Canto  XXV.  v.  18. 

V.  58.  In  ^'Ef/ina.]  lie  alludes  to  the  fable  of  the  ants  chanj.;ed  into 
Myrmidons.     Ovid,  Mot.  1.  vii. 

V.  104.  Ar'ezzo  mas  my  chcelUnf/.]  Grifolino  of  Arezzo,  who  jtromised 
Albero,  son  of  the  Bishop  of  Sienna,  that  he  would  teach  him  the  art  of 
flying  ;  and  because  he  did  not  keep  his  promise,  Albero  prevailed  on 
his  father  to  have  him  burnt  for  a  necromancer. 

V.  117.  Was  ever  race 

Light  as  Sienria's  ?] 

The  same  imputation  is  again  cast  on  the  Siennese,  Purg.  Canto  XIII. 
141. 

v.  121.  Strirca.']  This  is  said  ironically.  Stricca,  Niccolo  Salimbeni, 
Caccia  of  Asoiano,  and  Abbagliato,  or  Meo  dc  Folcacchieri,  belonged  to 
a  company  of  prodigal  and  luxurious  young  men  in  Sienna,  called  the 
"  hrigata  dodereccia."  Niccolo  was  tV(^  inventor  of  a  new  manner  of 
using  cloves  in  cookery,  not  very  well  ,  'irstood  by  the  commentators, 
and  which  was  termed  the  "  costuma  r>.Lca." 

V.  125.  In  that  garden.]     Sienna. 

V.  134.  Capocchio's  ghost.]  Capocchio  of  Sienna,  who  is  said  to  have 
been  a  fellow-student  of  Dante's  in  natural  philosophy. 


CANTO  XXX. 

V.  4.  Athamas.]    From  Ovid,  Metam.  1.  iv. 
Protinus  .(Eolides,  &c. 

V.  16.  Hecuba.]     See  Euripides,  Hecuba  ;  and  Ovid,  Metam.  1.  xiii. 

V.  33.  Schicchi.]  Gianni  Schicchi,  who  was  of  the  family  of  Caval- 
canti,  possessed  such  a  faculty  of  moulding  his  features  to  the  resem- 
blance of  others,  that  he  was  employed  by  Simon  Donati  to  personate 
Buoso  Donati,  then  recently  deceased,  and  to  make  a  will,  leaving 
Simon  his  heir  ;  for  which  service  he  was  remunerated  with  a  mare  of 
extraordinary  value,  here  called  "  the  lady  of  tlie  herd." 

V.  39.  Myrrha.]     See  Ovid,  Metam.  1.  x.' 

V.  60.  Adamo's  woe.]  Adamo  of  Brescia,  at  the  instigation  of  Gnido, 
Alessandro,  and  their  brother  Aghinulio,  lords  of  Romena,  counterfeited 
the  coin  of  Florence  ;  for  which  crime  he  was  burnt.  Landino  savs, 
that  in  his  time  the  i)easants  still  iiointcd  out  a  j)ile  of  stones  near  Ro- 
mena, as  the  place  of  his  execution. 


HETX.  889 

V.  64.  Cascnti)W.]    Romena  is  a  part  of  Caseiitino. 

V.  77.   Braii'Ms  limpid  .yirin;/.]     A  fountain  in  Sienna. 

V.  88.  The  forevx  villi  thnc  i-iira(fi  of  alloy.]  Tiie  lloicn  \v:is  a  cimii 
tliat  ought  to  liave  had  twonty-four  carats  of  pure  <io\d.  Yiiliiui  relates, 
that  it  was  first  used  at  Florence  in  ]li52,  an  a-ra  of  jjrcat  i)ros| crity  in 
tlie  annals  of  the  rei)ul)li(;  ;  before  which  time  their  most  valuable  coin- 
age was  of  silver.     Hist.  1.  vi.  c.  54. 

V.  96.  T/ie/alse  accuser.]    Potiphar's  wife. 


CANTO  XXXI. 

V.  1.  The  very  tongue.'] 

Vulnus  in  Herculeo  qnre  quondam  fecerat  hoste 
Vuhieris  auxiliiun  Pelias  hastii  f  uit. 

Ovid,  Eem.  Amor.  47. 

The  same  allusion  was  made  by  Bernard  de  Ventadour,  a  Provencal 
poet,  in  the  middle  of  the  twelfth  century  :  and  Millot  observes,  that 

it  was  a  singular  ln.«tance  of  erudition  in  a  Troubadour."  But  it  i,s 
not  inipo.ssible,  as  Wartou  remarks,  (Hist,  of  Engl.  Poetry,  vol.  ii.  sec. 
X.  p.  215.)  but  that  he  might  have  been  indebted  for  it  to  some  of  the 
eiirly  romances. 

In  Chaucer's  Squier's  Tale,  a  sword  of  similar  quality  is  introduced  : 

And  other  folk  have  wondred  on  the  sweard, 

That  could  so  piercen  through  every  thing  ; 

And  fell  in  speech  of  Telephus  the  king, 

And  of  Achilles  for  his  queint  .spere. 

For  he  couth  with  it  both  heale  and  dere. 
So  Shakspeare,  Henry  VI.  p.  ii.  a.  5.  s.  1. 

Whose  smile  and  frown  like  to  Achilles'  spear 

Is  able  with  the  change  to  kill  and  cure. 
V.  14.  Orlando.] 

When  Charlemain  with  all  his  peerage  fell 

At  Foutarabia.  Milton,  P.  L.  b.  i.  5.Sfi. 

See  Warton's  Hist,  of  Eng.  Poetry,  v.  i.  sect.  iii.  p.  i;?2.  "This  is  tlie 
horn  which  Orlando  won  from  the  giant  Jatmund,  and  wliich,  as  Turpin 
and  the  Islaudic  bards  rejiort,  was  endued  with  magical  power,  and 
might  be  heard  at  the  distance  of  twenty  miles."  Charlemain  and  Or- 
lando are  introduced  in  the  Paradise,  Canto  XVIII. 

V.  3(3.  Montereugion.]    A  castle  near  Sienna. 

V.  105.  Tlie  fortunate  vale.]  The  country  near  Carthage.  See  I.iv. 
Hist.  1.  XXX.  and  Lucan,  Phars.  1.  iv.  .5".I0,  &c.  Dante  has  kept  the  latter 
of  these  writers  in  his  eye  throughout  all  this  passage. 

V.  12.3.  Alcides.]  The  combat  between  Hercules  Antaeus  is  adduced  by 
the  Poet  in  his  ti'eatise  "  De  Monarchia,"  1.  ii.  as  a  proof  of  the  judg- 
ment of  God  displayed  in  the  dxiel,  according  to  the  singular  super.sti 
tion  of  those  times. 

V.  128.  The  tower  of  Curisendn.]    The  leaning  tower  at  Bologna 


■f- 


390  NOTES. 

CANTO  xxxir. 

▼.  8.  A  tonyur.  not  vs'd 

To  in/ant  hubbliru/.] 
N&  da  lingua,  clio,  cliianii  mamma,  o  babbo. 

Dante  in  his  treatise  "  Do  Yiil^'.  Eloq."  speaking  of  words  not  admissi- 
ble in  tlie  loftier,  or  as  In;  calls  it,  tragic  style  of  poetry,  says—"  In 
quorum  nnmero  nee  puerilia  propter  suam  Biniplicitatem  ut  Mamma  et 
Babbo,"  1.  ii.  c.  vii. 

V.  29.  Tahernich  or  Pietrapana.']  The  one  a  mountain  in  Sclavonia, 
the  othor  in  that  tract  of  country  called  tlie  Garfagnana,  not  far  from 
Lucca. 

V.  33.   To  wlicre  modest  shame  appears.']    "  As  high  as  to  the  face." 

V.  35.  Moving  their  teeth  in  shrill  note  like  the  stork.] 
Mettendo  i  denti  in  nota  di  cicogua. 

So  Boccaccio,  G.  viii.  n.  7.  "  Lo  scolar  cattivello  quasi  cicogna  divenuto 
si  forte  batteva  i  denti." 

V.  53.  Who  are  these  two.]  Alessandro  and  Napoleone,  sons  of  Allierto 
Albcrti,  who  murdered  each  other.  They  were  proprietors  of  the  valley 
of  Falterona,  where  the  Bisenzio  has  its  source,  a  river  that  falls  into  the 
Arno  about  six  miles  from  Florence. 

V.  59.  Not  him.]     Mordrec,  son  of  King  Arthur. 

V.  GO.  FocacciaT]  Focaccia  of  Cancellieri,  (the  Pistoian  family)  wlioso 
atrocious  act  of  revenge  against  his  uncle  is  said  to  have  given  rise  to 
the  parties  of  the  Bianchi  and  Neri,  in  the  year  1.jOO.  See  G.  Villani, 
Hist.  1.  viii.  c.  37.  and  Macchiavelli,  Hist.  1.  ii.  The  account  of  the  latter 
writer  differs  much  from  tliat  given  by  Landino  in  his  Commentary. 

V.  63.  Mascheroni.]  Sassol  Slascheroni,  a  Florentine,  who  also  mur- 
dered his  uncle. 

V.  C6.  Catniccione.]  Camiccione  de'  Pazzi  of  Valdarno,  by  whom  his 
kinsman  Ubertino  was  treacherously  put  to  death. 

V.  67.  Carlino.]  One  of  tlie  same  family.  He  betrayed  the  Castel  di 
Piano  Travigne,  ni  Valdarno,  to  the  Florentines,  after  the  refugees  of 
the  Bianca  and  Ghibelline  party  had  defended  it  again.st  a  siege  for 
twenty-nine  days,  in  the  sunmier  of  1302.  See  G.  Villani,  1.  viii.  c.  52. 
and  Dino  Compagni,  1.  ii. 

V.  81.  3Iuntapertr>.]  The  defeat  of  the  Guelfi  at  Montaperto,  occa- 
sioned by  the  treachery  of  Bocca  degli  Abbati,  who,  during  tlie  engage- 
ment, cut  otT  the  hand  of  Gincopo  del  Vacoa  de'  Pazzi,  bearer  of  the 
Fiortiiitiiie  standard.  G.  Villani,  1.  vi.  c.  80.  and  Notes  to  Canto  X. 
This  event  hap()ened  in  12(;0. 

V.  113.  Him  (if  Di((r(i.]  13uoso  of  Cremona,  of  the  family  of  Duera, 
who  was  bribed  by  Guy  de  Montfort,  to  leave  a  pass  between  Piedmont 
and  Parma,  with  the  defence  of  which  he  had  been  entrusted  by  the 
Gliibelliiies,  open  to  the  army  of  Charles  of  Anjou,  A.n.  12G5,  at  w  hieh 
the  i)cople  of  Cremona  were  so  enraged,  that  they  extirpated  tlie  whole 
family.     G.  Villani,  1.  vii.  c.  4. 

V.  116.  Beccariu.]  Abbot  of  Vallombrosa,  who  was  the  Pope's  Legate 
at  Florence,  where  his  intrigues  in  favour  of  the  Ghibellines  being  dis- 
covered, he  was  beheaded.  I  do  not  find  the  occurrence  in  Vallini,  nor 
do  the  comment:itors  say  to  what  pope  he  was  legate.  By  Landino  ho 
is  reported  to  have  been  from  Parma,  by  Vellutello  from  Pavia. 

V.  118.  Soldanieri.]     "Gianni  Soldanieri,"  says  Villani,  Hist.  1.  vii.  c. 


HELL.  391 

14,  "  put  liiuifielf  at  the  Jicad  of  the  people,  in  the  liopes  of  rising  Into 
power,  not  aware  that  the  result  would  bo  uiischioi'  to  the  Ghibelline 
party,  and  his  own  ruin  ;  an  event  which  seems  ever  to  have  belallen 
him,  who  has  headed  the  populace  in  Florence,"  A.i).  1266. 

V.  119.  Ganellon.]  Tlie  betrayer  of  Charlemain,  nieritioned  by  Arch- 
bishop Turpiu.  He  is  a  common  instance  of  treachery  with  the  poets  of 
the  middle  ages. 

Trop  son  fol  e  mal  i>€nsant. 

Pis  valent  que  Guenelon. 

Thibaut,  Roi  de  Navarre. 

0  new  Scariot,  and  new  Ganilion, 
O  false  dissembler,  &c. 

Chaucer,  Nonne^s  Prieste's  Tale. 

And  in  the  Monlce's  Tale,  Peter  of  Spaine. 

V.  ll'J.  Tribalddlo.]    Tribaldello  do'  :Manfredi,  -who  was  bribed  to  be- 
tray the  city  of  Faenza,  a.  d.  1282.     G.  Villanl,  1.  vli.  c.  80. 
V.  128.   Tt/deus.]    See  Statiua,  Theb.  1.  viil.  ad  finem. 

CANTO    XXXIII. 

V.  14.  Count  Ugolino.]  "  In  the  year  1288,  in  the  month  of  July,  Pisa 
was  much  divided  by  competitors  for  the  sovereignty ;  one  party,  com- 
posed of  certain  of  the  Guelphi,  being  headed  by  the  Judge  Nino  di  Gal- 
lura  de'  Visconti;  another.,  consisting  of  others  of  the  same  faction,  by 
the  Count  Ugoliuo  de' Ghcrardeschi;  and  the  tliird  by  the  Archbishop 
Ruggieri  degli  Ubaldini,  with  the  Lanfranchi,  Sismondi,  Gualandi,  and 
other  Ghibelline  houses.  The  Count  Ugolino,  to  eft'ect  his  pur])ose, 
united  with  the  Archbishop  and  his  party,  and  having  betrayed  Nino, 
his  sister's  son,  they  contrived  that  ho  and  his  followers  should  eitlier  bo 
driven  out  of  Pisa,  or  their  jiorsons  seized.  Nino  hearing  this,  and  not 
seeing  any  means  of  defending  himself,  retired  to  Calci,  his  castle,  and 
formed  an  alliance  with  the  Florentines  and  people  of  Lucca,  against  the 
Pisans.  The  Count,  before  Nino  was  gone,  in  order  to  cover  his  treach- 
ery, when  everything  was  settled  for  his  expulsion,  quitted  Pisa,  and  re- 
paired to  a  manor  of  his  called  Settimo;  whence,  as  soon  as  he  was  in- 
formed of  Nino's  departure,  lie  returned  to  Pisa  with  great  rejoicing  and 
festivity,  and  was  elevated  to  the  supreme  power  with  e^■ery  demonstra- 
tion of  triumph  and  honour.  But  his  greatness  was  not  of  long  continu- 
ance. It  pleased  tlie  Almighty  that  a  total  reverse  of  fortune  should 
ensue,  as  a  punishment  for  his  acts  of  treachery  and  guilt:  for  lie  was 
said  to  have  poisoned  the  Count  Anselmo  da  Capraia,  his  sifter's  son,  on 
account  of  the  envy  and  fear  excited  in  his  mind  by  the  high  esteem  in 
which  the  gracious  manners  of  Anselmo  were  held  by  the  Pisans.  The 
power  of  tiie  Guelphi  being  so  much  diminished,  the  Archbishop  devised 
means  to  betray  the  Count  Ugolino,  and  caused  hiin  to  be  suddenly  at- 
tacked in  his  palace  by  tlie  fury  of  the  people,  whom  he  had  exasperated, 
by  telling  them  that  Ugolino  had  betrayed  Pisa,  and  given  ni>  their 
castles  to  the  citizens  of  Florence  and  of  Lucca.  He  was  immediately 
compelled  to  surrender;  his  bastard  son  and  his  gr.andson  fell  in  the 
assault;  and  two  of  his  sons,  with  their  two  sons  also,  were  conveyed  to 
prison."     G.  Villain,  1.  vii.  c.  120. 

"In  the  follovving  March,  the  Pisans,  who  had  imprisoned  the  Comit 
Ugolino,  with  two  of  his  sous  and  two  of  his  grandchildren,  the  offspring 
of  his  sou  the  Count  Giielfo,  in  a  tower  on  the  Piazza  oi  the  Anziaua, 


392  NOTEfl. 

(Siiiscd  tlio  towor  to  ho  locked,  tlie  key  thrown  nito  the  Anio,  ajid  all 
food  to  ho  witliliold  from  them.  In  a  few  days  tliey  died  of  him^^er;  Imt 
tho  Count  first  witli  loud  cries  declared  liis  iieiiiteiice,  and  yet  iieitlier 
jiricst  nor  friar  was  allowed  to  shrixe  liim.  All  tho  live,  \\lien  dead, 
wcro  dragsi'fl  out  of  the  juison,  and  iiieaidy  inteircd;  and  from  thence- 
forward tlie  tower  was  called  the  tower  of  famine,  and  so  shall  ever  be." 
Ibid.  c.  127. 

Chaucer  lias  briefly  told  Ugolino's  story.     See  Monke's  Talc,  Iliigelino 
of  Pise. 

V.  29.  Unto  the  mountain.}    The  mountain  S.  Giuliano,  between  Pisa 
and  Lucca. 

V.  59.  T?iou  gcoj'st.] 

Tn  ne  vestisti 
Questo  misers  cami,  e  tu  le  spoglia. 

Imitated  by  Filicaja,  Canz.  iii. 

Di  qnesta  Imperial  caduca  spoRlia 
Tu,  Siffiior,  me  vestisti  e  tu  mi  spoglia: 
Ben  puoi  '1  Regno  me  tor  tu  che  mo  'I  destl. 

And  by  Maffei,  in  the  Merope: 

Tu  disciogleste 
Quests  misere  membra  e  tu  Is  annodi. 
V.  79.  In  that  fair  region.'] 

Del  bel  paese  1^,  dove  '1  si  suona. 
Italv,  as  exjilained  by  Dante  liimself,  in  Ids  treatise  De  Vulg.  Eloq.  1.  i. 
c.  8.      Qui  autem  Si  dicunt  a  pr.'cdictis  finibus.     (Januensium)  Orienta- 
Ism  (Meridionalis  Europa3  partem)  tenent;   videlicet  usque  ad  promon- 
torium  illud  Italia",  qua  sinus  Adriatic!  maris  incipit  et  Siciliam." 

V.  82.  Capraia  and  Oorgona.]    Small  islands  near  the  mouth  of  the 
Arno. 
V.  94.  There  very  weeping  svffers  not  to  weep.  ] 

Lo  pianto  stesso  li  pianger  non  lascia. 
So  Giusto  de'  Conti,  Bella  Mano.  Son.  "Quanto  il  ciel." 

Che  il  troppo  pianto  a  me  pianger  non  lassa. 
V.  116.  The  friar  Alberigo.}  Alberigo  de'  Manfredi,  of  P'aenza,  one  of 
the  Frati  Godenti,  Joyous  Friars,  who  having  quarrelled  with  some  of  his 
brotherhood,  under  i)retenco  of  wishing  to  be  reconciled,  invited  them  to 
a  banquet,  at  the  conclusion  of  which  he  called  for  the  fruit,  a  signal  for 
tho  assassins  to  rush  in  and  dispatch  those  whom  he  had  marked  for  de- 
struction. Hence,  adds  Landino,  it  is  said  proverbially  of  one  who  has 
been  sbibbed,  that  he  has  had  some  of  the  friar  Alberigo's  fruit. 
Thus  Pulci,  Morg.  Magg.  c.  xxv. 

Le  f rutto  amare  di  frate  Alberico. 
V.  123.  Ptolomea.]    This  circle  is  named  Ptolomea  from  Ptolemy,  the 
son  of  Abubus,  by  whom  Simon  and  his  sous  were  murdered,  at  a  great 
banquet  he  had  made  for  them.    See  1  Maccabees,  ch.  xvi. 
T.  12G.   TJie  glazed  tcai'-drops.] 

— sorrow's  sys,  glazed  Avith  blinding  tears. 

Shak.y)eare,  Rich.  II.  a  2.  s.  2. 

V.  13G.  Branca  Doria.}    The  family  of  Doria  was  possessed  of  great 


HELL.  893 

influence  in  Genoa.    Branca  is  said  to  liave  murdered  liis  fj^tliei-in-hut, 
Micliel  Zanclie,  introduced  in  Canto  XXII. 
V.  152.  Bomagtia's  dai-kest  spirit.]    The  friar  Alljcrigo. 

CANTO    XXXIV. 

V.  6.  A  wind-miU.]  The  author  of  the  Caliph  Vathek,  in  the  notos  to 
that  tale,  justly  observes,  that  it  is  more  than  proljaLle  that  Don 
■Quixote's  mistake  of  the  wind-mills  for  giants  was  suggested  to  Cervan- 
tes by  this  simile. 

V.  37.  Three  faces.']  It  can  scarcely  be  doubted  but  that  Milton  derived 
his  description  of  Satan  in  those  lines, 

Each  passion  dimm'd  his  face 
Thrice  chang'd  with  pale,  ire,  envy,  and  despair. 

P.  L.  h.  iv.  114. 
from  this  passage,  coupled  with  the  remark  of  Vellutello  upon  it:  "  Tlie 
first  of  these  sins  is  auger,  which  he  signifies  by  the  red  face;  the  second, 
represented  by  that  between  pale  and  yellow,  is  envy,  and  not,  as  others 
have  said,  avarice;  and  the  third,  denoted  by  the  black,  is  a  melancholy 
humour  that  causes  a  man's  thoughts  to  be  dark  and  evil,  and  averse 
from  all  joy  and  tranquillity." 
V.  44.  Sails.] 

— His  sail-broad  vans 
He  spreads  for  flight. 

Milton,  P.  L.  b.  ii.  927. 
Compare  Spenser,  F.  Q.  b.  i.  c.  xi.  st.  10;  Ben  Jonson's  Every  Man  out 
of  his  Humour,  v.  7;  and  Fletcher's  Prophetess,  a.  2.  s.  3. 

V.  46.  Like  a  hut.]  The  descrijitiou  of  an  imaginary  being,  who  is 
called  Typhurgo,  in  the  Zodiaciis  Vitm,  has  some  touches  very  like  this 
of  Dante's  Lucifer. 

Ingentem  vldi  regem,  ingentique  sedenteni 
In  solio,  crines  flammanti  stemmate  ciuctum, 

utrinque  pateutes 

Alse  hunieris  magnre,  quales  vespertilionum 

Membrauis  coutexta'  auijilis — 

Nudus  crat  longis  sed  opeitns  corpora  villis. 

M.  Palitu/enii,  Zod.  Vit.  1.  ix. 
A  mighty  king  I  might  discerne, 

Plac'd  hie  on  lofty  chaire, 
His  haire  with  fyry  garland  deckt 

Puft  up  in  fiendisli  wise. 


Largo  wings  on  him  did  gnnv 
Framde  like  the  wings  of  fliudcr  mice,  <fec. 

Goofje's  Translation. 
V.  61.  Bridits.]  Landiuo  struggles,  but  I  fear  in  vain,  to  extricate 
Brutus  from  the  unworthy  lot  wliicli  is  heie  assigned  him.  He  maintains, 
that  by  Brutus  and  Cassius  are  not  meant  tlie  iudixidnals  known  by 
those  names,  but  any  who  put  a  lawful  monarcli  to  death.  Ytt  i|  Caesar 
was  such,  tlie  conspirators  might  bo  regarded  as  deserving  of  their 
doom. 


394  NOTES. 

V.  89.  Within  one  hour  nntl  half  of  noon.]  Tlio  Poet  uses  tlic  HeLiow 
niannor  of  compiitiiiR  tho  day,  .'iccordinj;  to  which  the  third  hour  answers 
to  our  twelve  o'doclc  at  noon. 

V.  I'JO.  By  ichut  of  firm  land  on  this  side  appears.]  The  mountain  of 
Purgatory. 

V.  12:1  Tho  vaulted  tomb.]  "  La  tomba."  Tliis  word  is  used  to  ex 
weea  tho  whole  depth  of  the  infernal  rej^iou. 


-[ 


i^xji^o^^Toi^^sr. 


CANTO  I. 

Verse  1.  O'er  better  toaves.]    So  Bernl,  Orl.  Inn.  1.  2.  c.  1. 

Per  correr  magsior  acqiia  alza  le  velo, 
0  debil  navicella  del  niio  iiigegno. 
V.  11.  Birds  of  chattering  note.]    For  the  fable  of  tlie  daughter?  of 
Pierus,  wlio  challenged  the  muses  to  sing,  and  were  by  thcin  chanyed 
into  magpies,  see  Ovid,  Met.  1.  v.  fab.  5. 
V.  19.  Planet.]     Venus. 

V.  20.  Made  all  the  orient  laugh.]    Hence  Chaucer,  Knight's  Talc: 
And  all  the  orisout  laugheth  of  the  sight. 
It  is  sometimes  read  "  orient." 

V.  24.  Fortr  .stars.]    Symbolical  of  the  four  cardinal  virtues,  Prndei  ",o. 
Justice,  Fortitude,  and  Temperance.     See  Canto  XXXI  v.  105. 
V.  30.  The  icai7i.]     Charles's  wain,  or  Bootes. 
V.  31.  Anoldma7i.]     Cato. 

V.  42.   Venerable  plumes.]    The  same  metaphor  has  occurred  hi  IMl, 
Canto  XX.  v.  41: 

the  plumes, 

That  mark'd  the  better  sex. 
It  is  used  by  Ford  in  the  Lady's  Trial,  a.  4.  s.  2. 

Now  the  down 
Of  softness  is  exchang'd  for  i)lumes  of  age. 
V.  58.  The  farthest  gloom.]    L' ultima  sera.    So  Ariosto,  0.  F.  c.  .xx  v  • 
Bt,  59: 

Che  nou  hau  visto  ancor  1' ultima  sera. 
And  Filicaja,  c.  ix.  Al  Sonno. 

L' ultima  sera. 
▼.79.  Marcia.l 

Da  fojdera  priscl 
niibata  tori :  da  tantum  nomen  inane 
Connubii:  liceat  tumulo  scripsisse,  Catonia 
Martia.  Lncan,  Phars.  1.  ii.  344. 

V.  116.  Ispy'd  the  trembling  of  the  ocean  stream.] 

Conobbi  il  tremolar  della  ni.-irina. 
So  Trissino,  in  the  Sofonisba: 

E  resta  in  tremolar  I'ond.a  marin.T,. 

395 


390  NOTKS. 

And  Fortlgiiorm,  Ricclnrdotto,  c.  ix.  pt.  17. 

visto  il  tromolar  dolla  marina. 

V.  135.  Another.]    From  Virf;.  Mn.  1.  vi.  IKt. 

Primo  avuleo  iion  deficit  alter. 

CANTO  II. 

V.  1.  Now  had  the  mn.]  Danto  was  now  antipodal  to  Jenis.alem;  so 
that  wliilo  the  nun  was  sottlii^  with  rcHpect  to  that  place,  which  ho  sup- 

]        looses  to  ho  the  iiiiddlo  of  the  inhabited  earth,  to  him  it  waa  rising. 

j  V.  6.  The  scales.]    Tho  constellation  Libra. 

I  V.  35.   Winnowinc;  the  air.] 

\  Trattiindo  I'aere  con  I'eterne  peune. 

1        SoFilicaja,  canz.  viii.  st.  11. 

\  Ma  trattar  I'aero  coll'  eterne  plume. 

\  V.  45.  In  eritu.]    "  When  Israel  camo  out  of  Ef,'ypt."    Ps.  cxlv. 

I  V.  75.  Thrice  my  hands.] 

I  Ter  coiiatus  ibi  collo  dare  brachia  circnm, 

I  Ter  fniHtra  comprensa  manus  effny:it  imago, 

!  Par  levibus  ventis  volucriquo  eiuiillima  Pomno. 

\  Virg.  jEn.  ii.  7i^. 

Compare  Homer,  Od.  XI.  205. 

V.  88.  My  Casella.]  A  Florentine,  celebrated  for  his  skill  in  music, 
"  in  whose  company,"  says  Landinc,  "  Dante  often  recreated  his  spirits, 
wearied  by  severe  studies.''  See  Dr.  Bnrney's  History  of  Music,  vol.  ii. 
c.  iv.  p.  322.     Milton  has  a  fine  allusion  to  this  meeting  in  his  sonnet  to 

s        Henry  Lawes. 

L  V.  90.  Hath  so  mvch  time  been  lost.]    Casella  }iad  been  dead  some 

i;        years,  but  was  only  just  arrived. 

1^  V.  91.  He.]    The  conducting  angel. 

t  V.  94.   Thc.ie  three  months  past.]    Since  the  time  of  the  Jubilee,  during 

i;        which  all  spirits,  not  condemned  to  eternal  punishment,  were  supposed 
to  pass  over  to  Purgatory  as  soon  as  they  pleased. 

;  V.  96.  The  shore.]    Ostia. 

j  V.  170.  "  Love  that  discoiirses  in  my  thxni(/hts."] 

^  "  Amor  che  nella  mente  mi  ragiona." 

I  The  first  verse  of  a  canzone,  or  song,  in  the  Convito.  of  Dante,  which 

I       he  again  cites  in  his  Treatise  de  Vulg.  Eloq.  1.  ii.  c.  vL 

CANTO  in. 

T.  9.  Hoio  doth  a  little/ailing  wound  thee  sore.] 

Ch'era  al  cor  picciol  fallo  amaro  niorso. 

Tasso,  0   L.  c.  x.  st  69. 

V.  11.  Haste,  that  mars  all  decency  of  act.]  Aristotle  in  his  Pliv  siog.  c. 
ill.  reckons  it  among  the  avaihoi,<;  arnxfla  "  the  signs  of  an  imi)ndent  ni.an," 
that  he   is  ev  rai?  Ktvija-etTiv  clii?,    "  quiclc  in  his    motions."     Compare 

S<)l>hocles,  Eloctra,  878.      To  Koa/Jnov  utOelaa, 

2(i.  7()  Xaplcs.]  Virgil  died  at  IJrundusium,  from  whence  his  bodj 
is  said  to  have  lM'<^n  removed  to  Naples. 


PUROATORY. 


3§7 


V.  38.  Desiriiif/  fruitlessli/.]    See  II.  Cuiito  IV.  39. 

V.  49.  'Twixt  Lerice  and  Tiirbia.]  At  that  time  tlie  two  extremities  of 
the  Genoese  republic,  the  former  on  tlio  east,  tlie  latter  on  the  west.  A 
very  ingenious  writer  has  had  occasion,  for  a  different  purpose,  to  nion- 
tiou  one  of  these  places  as  remarkably  secluded  by  its  mountainous 
situation.  "  On  an  eminence  among  the  mountains,  between  the  two 
little  cities,  Nice  and  Manoca,  is  the  vilhige  of  Torbia,  a  name  formed 
from  the  Greek  rponaia.,"  Mitford  ou  the  Harmony  of  Language,  sect. 
XV.  p.  .351.  2d  edit. 

V.  78.  As  sheep.]  The  imitative  nature  of  these  animals  supplies  our 
Poet  with  another  comparison  in  his  Convito,  Opere,  t.  i.  p.  o4.  Ediz. 
Ven.  1793. 

110.  Manfredi.  King  of  Naples  and  Sicily,  and  the  natural  son  of 
Frederick  II.  He  was  lively  and  agreeable  in  his  manners,  and  delighted 
in  poetry  music,  and  dancing.  But  he  was  luxurious  and  ambitious,  void  | 
of  religion,  and  in  his  philosophy  an  Epicurean.  See  (j.  Villani,  1.  vi.  c.  j 
xlvii.  and  Mr.  Matthias's  Tirabosclii,  v.  i.  p.  38.  He  fell  in  tlie  battle 
-with  Charles  of  Anjou  in  1265,  alluded  to  in  Danto  XXVIII.  of  Hell,  v. 
13.  "  Dying  excommunicated.  King  Charles  did  not  allow  of  his  being 
buried  iu  sacred  ground,  but  he  was  interred  near  the  bridge  of  Bene- 
vento,  and  on  his  grave  there  was  cast  a  stone  by  every  one  of  the  arni3', 
■whence  there  was  formed  a  great  mound  of  stones.  But  some  have  said, 
that  afterwards,  by  command  of  the  Pope,  the  IMsliop  of  Cosenza  took  up 
his  body  and  sent  it  out  of  the  kingdom,  because  it  was  the  land  of  the 
church,  and  that  it  was  buried  by  the  river  Verde,  ou  the  borders  of  the 
kingdom  and  of  Cauipagua.  This,  however,  we  do  not  affirm."  G.  Vil- 
lani, Hist.  1.  vii.  c.  9. 

V.  111.  Costanza.']     See  Paradise,  Canto  III.  v.  121. 

V.  112.  My  fair  daughter.']  Costanza,  the  daughter  of  Manfredi,  and 
wife  of  Peter  III.  King  of  Arragon,  by  whom  she  was  mother  to  Freder- 
ick, King  of  Sicily,  and  James,  King  of  Arragon.  With  the  latter  of  these 
she  was  at  Rome  1296.  See  G.  Vilhini,  L  viii.  e.  18.  and  notes  to  Canto 
VU. 

v.  122.  Clement.']    Pope  Clement  IV. 

V.  127.  The  stream  of  Ve^'de.]  A  river  near  Ascoli,  that  falls  into  the 
Toronto.  The  "extinguished  lights"  formed  part  of  the  ceremony  at 
the  interment  of  one  excommunicated. 

v.  130.  Hope.] 

Mentre  che  la  eperanza  ha  fior  del  verde. 
So  Tasso,  G.  L.  c.  xix.  st.  53. 

infin  che  verde  h  fior  di  speme. 

CANTO  IV. 

V.  1.  When.]  It  must  be  owned  the  beginning  of  this  Canto  is  some- 
what obscure.  Vellutello  refers,  for  an  elucidation  of  it,  to  the  reason- 
ing of  Statins  in  the  twenty-fifth  Canto.  Perhaps  some  illustration  may 
be  derived  from  the  following  pass:ige  in  South's  Sermons,  in  which  I 
have  ventured  to  supply  the  words  between  crotchets  that  seemed  to  be 
wanting  to  complete  the  sense.  Now  whether  these  three,  judgment, 
memory,  and  invention,  are  three  distinct  things,  both  in  being  distin- 
guished from  one  another,  and  likewise  from  tlie  substance  of  the  soul 
itself,  considered  without  any  such  faculties;  [or  whether  the  soul  be 
one  individual  substance]  but  only  receiving  these  several  denomiua- 


398  NOTES. 

tions  from  tlie  BOvcral  respects  iirisinii  from  the  several  actions  exeifod 
imnicili.'itcly  bv  itself  upon  scvoral  olijcctrt,  or  several  (iiialities  of  the 
eanie  object;  I'say  wlicthcr  of  these  it  is,  is  not  easy  to  (Icctidc^,  and  it  is 
well  that  it  is  not  necessary.  Aquinas,  and  most  witli  hiin,  allirm  the 
former,  and  Scotus  witli  his  followers  the  latter."     Vol.  iv.  Serin.  1. 

V.  2."5.  Sanlco.]     A  fortress  on  the  summit  of  Montefeltro. 

V.  24.  Noli.]     In  the  Cicnoese  territory,  between  Finale  and  Savona. 

V.  25.  Jiismantua.]     A  steep  mountain  in  the  territory  of  Kej;;;io. 

V.  55.  From  the  left.]  Vellutello  observes  an  imitatiou  of  Lucan  in 
this  passage : 

Ignotum  vobis,  Arabes,  venistia  in  orbera, 
Umbras  mirati  uemorum  uou  ire  sinistras. 

Phars.  1.  iii.  248. 

V.  69.  Thou  wilt  see.]  "  If  yon  consider  tliat  tliis  monntain  of  I'urga- 
tory  and  that  of  Sion  are  antipodal  to  each  other,  yon  will  perceive  that 
the  sun  nnist  rise  on  opposite  sides  of  the  respective  eminences." 

V.  119.  Bclacqua.]    (Jouceruiug  this  man,  the  com meutators  afford  no 

i      information. 
CANTO  V. 

■<         V.  14.  Be  as  a  tower.]    Sta  come  torre  ferma. 

I      So  Berni,  Orl.  Inn.  1.  1.  c.  x\\.  st  48: 

j  In  quei  due  piedi  sta  fermo  il  gigante 

i  Com'  nna  torre  in  mezzo  d'un  castello. 

I      And  MUton  P.  L.  b.  i.  591. 

\  Stood  like  a  tower. 

iv.  36.  Ne'er  saw  I  fiery  vapours.]    Imitated  by  Tasso,  G.  L.  c.  xix. 
Bt  62: 
Tal  suol  fendendo  liquido  sereno 
Stella  cader  della  gran  uiadre  in  seno. 

I      And  by  Milton,  P.  L.  b.  iv.  558 : 

I  Swift  as  a  shooting  star 

j  In  autumn  thwarts  the  night,  when  vapours  fir'd 

i  Impress  the  air, 

S         T.  67.  That  land.]     The  Marca  d'Ancona,  between  Romagna  and 

E      Apulia,  the  kingdom  of  Charles  of  Anjou. 

;  V.  73.  From  thence  I  came.]     Giacopo  del  Cassero,  a  citizen  of  Fano, 

■      who  having  spoken  ill  of  Azzo  da  Este,  Marquis  of  Ferrara,  was  by  his 

\      orders  put  to  death.     Giacopo  was  overtaken  by  the  assassins  at  Oriaco, 

i      a  place  near  the  Brenta,  from  whence,  if  he  had  fled  towards  Mira, 

!      higher  up  on  that  river,  instead  of  making  for  the  marsh  on  the  sear- 
shore,  he  might  have  escaped. 
Y.  75.  Antenor's  land.]    The  city  of  Padua,  said  to  be  founded  by 
S      Antenor. 

IV.  87.  Of  Montefeltro  I.]    Buonconte  (son  of  Guido  da  Montefeltro, 
whom  we  have  had  in  the  twenty-seventh  Canto  of  Hell)  fell  in  the 
battle  of  Campaldino  (1289),  fij;liting  on  the  side  of  the  Aretini. 
;  V.  88.  Giovanna.]    Either  the  wife,  or  kinswoman,  of  Buonconte. 

',  V.  94.  Tlie  hermit's  seat.]    The  hermitage  of  Canialdoli. 

V.  95.    Where  its  7iame  is  cancel'd.]    That  is,  between  Bibbiena  and 
•      Poppi,  where  tlie  Archiauo  falls  into  the  Anio. 


rUKGATORY.  399 

V.  115.  From  Pratomagito  to  the  mountain  range.']  From  Pratomagno, 
now  called  Prato  Vecchio  (which  divides  the  Valdarno  from  Caseutiiio), 
as  far  as  to  the  Apeimiue. 

V.  131.  Pia.]  She  is  said  to  have  been  a  Sieiniese  lady,  of  the  family 
of  Tolommei,  secretly  made  away  with  by  her  husband,  Nello  della 
Pietra,  of  the  same  city,  in  Maremma,  where  he  had  some  possessions. 

CANTO   VI. 

V.  14.  Of  Arezzo  him."]  Benincasa  of  Arezzo,  eminent  for  his  skill  in  jiv 
risprudence,  who,  having  condemned  to  death  Tiirrinoda  Turrita,  brotliei 
of  Ghino  di  Tacco,  for  his  robberies  in  Maremma,  was  nnirdered  by 
Ghino,  in  an  apartment  of  his  own  house,  in  the  presence  of  many  wit- 
nesses. Ghino  was  not  only  suffered  to  escape  in  safety,  but  (as  tlie 
commentators  inform  us)  obtained  so  high  a  rejmtation  V)y  the  liberality 
■with  which  he  was  accustomed  to  dispense  tlie  fruits  of  his  plunder,  and 
treated  those  who  fell  into  his  hands  with  so  much  courtesy,  that  he  was 
afterwards  invited  to  Rome,  and  knighted  by  Boniface  VIU.  A  story  is 
told  of  him  by  Boccaccio,  G.  x.  N.  2. 

V.  15.  Him.  beside.']  Ciacco  de'  Tarlatti  of  Arezzo.  He  is  said  to  have 
been  carried  by  his  horse  into  the  Arno,  and  there  drowned,  while  he 
"was  in  pursuit  of  certain  of  his  enemies. 

V.  17.  Frederic  Novello.]  Son  of  the  Coute  Guido  da  Battifolle,  and 
elaiu  by  one  of  the  family  of  Bostoli. 

V.  18.  Of  Pisa  he.]  Farinata  de*  Scornigiani  of  Pisa.  His  father 
Marzuco,  who  had  entered  the  order  of  thePrati  Minori,  so  entirely  over- 
came the  feelings  of  resentment,  that  he  even  kissed  tlie  liands  of  tlie 
slayer  of  his  son,  and,  and  as  he  was  following  the  funeral,  exhorted  his 
kinsmen  to  reconciliation. 

V.  20.  Count  Oi'so.]  Son  of  Napoleone  da  Cerbaia,  slain  by  Alberto  da 
Mangona,  his  uncle. 

V.  23.  Peter  de  la  Brosse.]  Secretary  of  Philip  III.  of  France.  The 
courtiers,  envying  the  high  place  which  he  held  in  the  king's  favour,  pre- 
vailed on  Mary  of  Brabant  to  charge  him  falsely  with  an  attempt  upon 
her  person  ;  for  which  supposed  crime  he  suffered  deatlu 

So  say  the  Italian  commentators.  Henault  represents  the  matter  very 
differently:  "Pierre  de  la  Brosse,  formerly  barber  to  St.  Louis,  after- 
wards the  favourite  of  Philip,  fearing  the  too  great  attachment  of  the 
king  for  his  wife  Mary,  accuses  this  princess  of  having  poisoned  Louis, 
eldest  son  of  Philip,  by  his  first  marriage.  This  calumny  is  discovered 
by  a  nun  of  Nivelle  in  Flanders,  La  Brosse  is  hung."  Abrege  Chrou. 
1275,  &c 

V.  30.  In  thy  text.]    He  refers  to  Virgil,  ^n.  1,  vi.  376. 

Desine  fata  deum  flecti  sperare  precaudo. 
T.  37.  The  sacred  height 

Of  judgment.] 
So  Shakspeare,  Measure  for  Measure,  a.  ii.  s.  2. 

If  he,  which  is  the  top  of  judgment 
V.  66.  Eying  us  as  a  lion  on  his  watch.] 

A  guisa  di  Leon  quando  si  posa. 
A  line  taken  by  Tasso,  G.  L.  c.  x.  st.  56. 

V.  75.  Sordcllo.]  The  history  of  Sordello's  life  is  Avrapt  in  the  obscur- 
ity of  romance.    That  he  distinguished  himself  by  his  skill  in  Provcu(;al 


400  NOTES. 

poetry  is  certain.  It  is  iiroltablc  that  he  was  Iwrn  towards  tlie  end  of  thi 
twelftli,  and  died  about  tlio  iiiiddli;  of  tlin  succeed  in, u%  ceiitiirv.  Tinihosclii 
lias  takcMi  imuli  pains  to  sift  all  the  notices  ho  coid<l  collect  relatinj,'  to 
iiini.  IlononiabU'  mention  of  his  name  is  niiide  by  our  I'oct  iu  the  Trea- 
tise de  Vnl^j.  I'^bx].  1.  i.  c  15. 
V.  7(j.  Thou  inn  of  (jrief.] 

Thou  most  beauteous  inn. 
Why  gliould  hard-favour'd  Rrief  l)e  lod^'M  in  theeV 

Shakspeare,  lUduird  II.  a.  5.  s.  1. 

V.  80.  Jm^tinian's  hand.]  "  Wliat  avails  it  that  Justinian  delivered 
tliee  from  the  (Joths,  and  reformed  thy  laws,  if  tliou  art  no  longer  uiuler 
the  control  of  his  successors  in  the  empire?  " 

V.  ;»4.  Thai  ivhich  God  comnumds.]  He  alludes  to  the  j)recept — "  Iten- 
der  unto  Ca-sar  the  tilings  which  are  C.'csar's.'' 

V.  98.  0  German  Albert .']  The  Emperor  Albert  I.  succeeded  Adolplius 
iu  1298,  and  was  murdered  in  1308.    See  Par.  Canto  XIX.  114. 

V.  103.  Thif  successor.]  The  successor  of  Albert  was  Henry  of  Luxem- 
burg, by  whose  interposition  in  the  affairs  of  Italy  our  Poet  hoped  to  have 
been  reinstated  in  his  native  city. 

V.  104.  Thi/  sire.]  The  Empereor  Rodolph,  too  intent  on  increasiu"; 
his  power  in  Germany  to  give  much  of  his  thoughts  to  Italy,  "the  garden 
of  the  empire." 

[  V.  107. Capnlets  a7id  Montagues.]    Our  ears  are  so  familiarized  to  the 

\       names  of  these  rival  families  in  the  language  of  Shakspeare,  that  I  have 

used  them  inste,'id  of  the  "  Moutecchi  "  and  "Cappelletti." 
I  V.    108.    Philippeschi  and  Monaldi.]      Two    other   rival  families  in 

[       Orvieto. 

V.  113.  What  safety  Santafiore  can  svpply.]  A  place  between  Pisa  and 
Sienna.  What  he  alludes  to  is  so  doubtful,  that  it  is  not  certain  whether 
■we  should  not  read  "come  si  cura" — "How  Santafiore  is  governed." 
Perhaps  the  event  related  iu  the  note  to  v.  58,  Canto  XL  may  bo  pointed 
at. 
V.  127.  Marcellus.]  Uu  Marcel  diventa 

Ogni  villan  che  parteggiaudo  vieue. 
Bepeated  by  Alamauni  iu  his  Coltivazione,  1.  i. 

V.  51.  A  sick  wretch.]  Imitated  by  the  Cardinal  de  Polignac  in  his 
Anti-Lucretius,  1.  i.  1052. 

Ceu  lectum  peragrat  membris  langnentibns  reger, 
In  latus  alterne  l.^evum  dcxtrumque  recumbens: 
Nee  jnvat:  inde  oculos  toUit  resupinus  in  altum : 
Nusquam  inventa  quics;  semper  qutesita:  quod  illi 
Primum  in  deliciis  fuerat,  niox  torquet  et  augit; 
Nee  morbum  sanat,  uec  fallit  taidia  morbi. 

CANTO  VIL 

V.  14.  Where  one  of  mean  estate  might  clasp  his  lord.]  So  Arioeto, 
Ori.  F.  c.  xxiv.  St.  19. 

E  I'abbracciaro,  ove  ii  maggior  s'abbraccia, 
Col  capo  nudo  e  col  ginocchio  chino. 

V.  31.   Tlie  three  holy  virtues.]    Faith,  Hope  and  Charity. 

V.  32.   T?ierest.]    Prudence,  Justice,  Fortitude,  and  Temperance. 


PURGATORY.  401 

V.  72.  Fresh  emeralds.] 

Under  foot  the  violet, 
Crocus,  and  hyacinth  with  rich  inliiy 
Broider'd  the  ground,  more  colour'd  tlian  with  stoue 
Of  costliest  emblem. 

Milion,  P.  L.  b.  iv.  /03. 

Compare  Ariosto,  Orl.  F.  c.  xxxiv.  st.  49. 

V.  79.  Salve  Regina.]  The  beginning  of  a  prayer  to  the  Virgin.  It  is 
sufficient  here  to  observe,  tliat  in  similar  instances  I  shall  either  preserve 
the  original  Latin  words  or  translate  them,  as  it  may  seem  best  to  suit 
the  purf)ose  of  the  verse. 

V.  91.  The  Emperor  Rodolph.]  See  the  last  Canto,  v.  104.  He  died  in 
1291. 

V.  95.  That  cotintry.]    Bohemia. 

V.  97.  Ottocar.']  King  of  Bohemia,  was  killed  in  the  battle  of  March- 
field,  fought  with  Rodolph,  August  2G,  1278.  Winceslaus  II.,  his  son, 
who  succeeded  him  iu  the  kiugdoni  of  Ijoliemia.  died  in  1305.  He  is 
again  taxed  with  luxury  in  the  Paradi.se,  Canto  XIX.  123. 

V.  101.  That  one  ivith  the  nose  deprest.]  Pliilip  III.  of  France,  who  died 
iu  1285,  at  Perpignan,  in  his  retreat  from  Arragon. 

V.  102.  Ilim  0/ gentle  look.]  Henry  of  Navarre,  father  of  Jane  married 
to  Philip  IV.  of  France,  whom  Dante  calls  "  lual  di  Francia  "— "  Gallia's 
bane." 

V.  110.  He  so  robust  of  limb.]  Peter  III.  called  the  Great.  King  of 
Arragon,  who  died  in  1285,  leaving  four  sons,  Alonzo,  James,  Frederick, 
and  Peter.  Tlie  two  former  succeeeded  him  iu  the  kingdom  of  Arragon, 
and  Frederick  hi  that  of  Sicily.  See  G.Villani,  1.  vii.  c.  102.  and  Mariiina, 
I.  xiv.  c.  9. 

He  is  enumerated  among  the  Provenc^al  poets  by  Millot,  Hist.  Litt.  des 
Troubadours,  t.  iii.  p.  150. 

V.  111.  Him  of  feature  prominent]  "Dal  maschio  naso" — with  the 
masculine  nose."  Charles  I.  King  of  Naples,  Count  of  Anjou,  and 
brother  of  St.  Louis.     He  died  iu  1284. 

The  annalist  of  Florence  remarks,  that  "  there  had  been  uo  sovereign 
of  the  house  of  France,  since  the  time  of  Charlemagne,  by  whom  Charles 
was  surpassed  either  in  military  renown,  and  prowess,  or  in  the  loftiness 
of  his  understanding."  G.  Villaui,  1.  vii.  c.  94.  We  shall,  however,  find 
many  of  his  actions  severely  reprobated  iii  the  twentieth  Canto. 

V.  113.  That  stripling.]  Either  (as  the  old  commentators  suiijiose) 
Alonzo  III.  King  of  Arragon,  the  eldest  son  of  Peter  III.  who  died  iu 
1291,  at  the  age  of  27  ;  or,  according  to  Venturi,  Peter  the  youngest  son. 
The  former  was  a  young  prince  of  virtue  sufficient  to  have  justified  tlie 
eulogium  and  the  hopes  of  Dante.  See  Mariana,  1.  xiv.  c.  14. 
V.  119.  Raraly.] 

Full  well  can  the  wise  poet  of  Florence, 

That  hight  Dante,  speaken  iiithis  sentence  ; 

Lo  !  in  such  manner  rime  is  Dantestale. 

Full  selde  uprisetli  by  liis  brandies  smale 

Prowesse  of  man,  for  God  of  his  gooduesse 

AVoll  that  we  claim  of  him  our  geutleuesse  : 

For  of  our  elders  may  we  nothing  claime 

But  temporal  thing,  that  men  may  hurt  and  maime. 

Chaucer,  Wife  of  Bathe's  Tale. 
26 


402  NOTES. 

Compare  Homer,  Od.  b.  ii.  v.  276  ;  Pindar,  Ncm.  xi.  48  ;  and  r.ini-  j 
pides,  l'".lectra,  'Mii.  j 

V.  1122.  To  Vhurles.]  "Al  Nasuto."—"  Charles  II.  King  of  Naples,  is  1 
no  le.'^s  inferior  to  his  father  Charles  I.  than  James  and  Fiederick  to  S 
tlieirs,  Peter  III."  ', 

V.  127.  C'o,s/a?(2;a.]  Widow  of  Peter  111.  She  has  been  already  men- 
tioned in  the  third  Canto,  v.  112.  By  Beatrice  and  Margaret  are  prob- 
ably meant  two  of  the  daughters  of  Raymond  Herenger,  Count  of  Pio- 
vcnce  ;  the  former  married  to  St.  Louis  of  France,  the  latter  to  his 
liidther  Charles  of  Anjon.  See  Paradise,  Canto  Yl.  135.  Dante  there- 
fore c(jnsiders  Peter  as  the  most  illustrious  of  the  tliree  monarclis. 

V.  129.  Harry  of  Eru/land.]     Henry  111. 

V.  130.  Better  issve.]  Edward  I.  of  whose  glory  our  Poet  was  perhaps 
a  witness,  in  his  visit  to  England. 

V.  133.  William,  that  brave  Marquis.]  "William,  Marquis  of  Monfer- 
rat,  was  treacherously  seized  by  his  own  subjects,  at  Alessandria  in 
Lombardy,  a.d.  12i)0,  and  ended  his  life  in  prison.  See  G.  Villani,  L  vii. 
c.  135.  A  war  ensued  between  the  people  of  Alessandria  and  those  of 
Mouferrat  and  the  Canavese. 


CANTO  vm. 

▼.  6.  That  seems  to  mourn  for  the  erpiring  day.'] 

The  curfew  tolls  the  knell  of  parting  day. 

G7-ay^s  Elegy. 
V.  13.  Te  Lucis  Ante.]    The  beginning  of  one  of  the  evening  hymns. 
V.  36.  As  faculty.] 

My  earthly  by  his  heav'nly  overpower'd 

As  with  an  object,  that  excels  the  sense, 
Dazzled  and  spent. 

Milton.,  P.  L.  b.  viii.  457. 

V.  53.  Nino,  thou  courteoiis  judge.]  Nino  di  Gallura  de'  Visconti, 
nephew  to  Count  Ugolino  de'  Gherardeschi,  and  betrayed  by  him.  See 
Notes  to  Hell,  Canto  XXXIII. 

V.  65.  Conrad.]    Currado  Malaspina. 

V.  71.  My  Giovanna.]  The  daughter  of  Nino,  and  wife  of  Riccardo  da 
Cammino  of  Trevigi. 

V.  73.  Her  mother.]  Beatrice,  marchioness  of  Este,  wife  of  Nino,  and 
after  his  death  married  to  Galeazzo  de'  Visconti  of  Milan. 

V.  74.  The  white  and  ivimpled  folds.]     The  weeds  of  widowhood. 

V.  80.  The  viper.]  The  arms  of  Galeazzo  and  the  ensign  of  the  Mi- 
lanese. 

V.  81.  Shrill  Galhira's  bird.]  The  cock  was  the  ensign  of  Gallura, 
Nino's  province  in  Sardinia.     Hell,  Canto  XXII.  80.  and  Notes. 

V.  115.    Valdimagra.]     See  Hell,  Canto  XXIV.  144.  and  Notes. 

V.  133.  Sev'n  times  the  tired  sun.]  "  The  sun  shall  not  enter  into  the 
constellation  of  Aries  seven  times  more,  before  thou  shalt  have  still 
better  cause  for  the  good  opinion  thoii  exjn'essest  of  Valdimagra,  in  the 
kind  receptit)!!  tliou  shalt  tliere  meet  with."  Dante  was  hospitably  re- 
ceived by  the  Marchese  Marcello  Malaspina,  during  his  banishment, 
A.D.  1307. 


PURGATORY.  403 


CANTO  IX 

T.  1.  Now  the  fair  consort  of  TUhonxis  old.'\ 

La  coiicubina  di  Titone  antico. 
So  Tassoui,  Sccchia  Rapita,  c.  viii.  st.  15. 

La  puttanella  del  canuto  aiiiante. 
V.  5.  Of  that  chill  animal.^    The  scorpion. 
»     V.  14.  Our  minds.]    Compare  Hell,  Canto  XXVI.  7. 

V.  18.  A  (/olden-feathered  eac/le.]  So  Chaucer,  in  the  House  of  Fame, 
at  the  concln.siou  of  the  lirst  book  and  beginning  of  tlie  .secoiid,  repre- 
sents himself  carried  up  by  the  "  grini  pawes  "  of  a  golden  eagle.  Much, 
of  his  description  is  closely  imitated  from  Dante.  j 

V.  50.  Lncia.]  The  enliglitening  grace  of  heaven.  Hell,  Canto  11.  07.  I 
V.  85.  T/ie  loivest  stair.]  By  the  white  step  is  meant  the  distinctness  ) 
with  which  the  conscience  of  the  ])enitent  reflects  his  offences  ;  by  the  j 
burnt  and  cracked  one,  his  contrition  on  their  account  ;  and  by  that  of  ' 
porphyry,  the  fervour  with  which  lie  resolves  on  the  fnture  pursuit  of  | 
piety  and  virtue.  Hence,  no  doubt,  Milton  describing  "the  gate  of  j 
heaven,"  P.  L.  b.  iii.  51G. 

Each  stair  mysteriously  was  meant.  ' 

V.  100.  Seven  times.]     Seven  P's,  to  denote  the  seven  sins  (Peccata)  of        j 

which  he  was  to  be  cleansed  in  his  i)assage  through  Purgatory.  j 

V.  115.  One  is  more  prccioiis.]    Tb.e  golden  key  denotes  tlie  divine         I 

authority  by  which  the  priest  absolves  the  sinners  :  the  silver  expresses         I 

the  learning  and  judgment  requisite  for  the  due  discharge  of  that  office.         I 

V.  127.  Harsh  was  the  grating.]  ] 

On  a  sudden  open  fly  I 

With  impetuous  recoil  and  jarring  sonnd  i 

Til'  infernal  doors,  and  on  their  hinges  grate  "; 

Harsh  thunder.  Milton,  P.  L.  b.  ii.  882.  '■ 

T.  128.  The  Tarpeian.] 

Protinus,  abducto  patuernnt  templa  Metello.  > 

Tunc  rupes  Tarpeia  sonat  r  niagfioque  reclusas 
Testatur  stridore  fores  :  tunc  conditus  imo 
Eruitur  templo  multis  intactup  at  aunis 
Bouiaui  census  popali,  &c. 

LucaTi..  Ph- 1,  iii  187. 


CANTO  X. 

T.  6.  That  wmmd.]    Ventnri  justly  observes,  that  the  Padre  d'Aquioo 
has  misrepresented  the  sense  of  this  passage  in  his  transhitiou. 
— dabat  ascensum  tendentibus  ultra 
Scissa  tremensque  silex,  tenuique  erratica  motu. 
The  verb  "  inuover  "  is  used  in  the  same  signification  in  the  inferno. 
Canto  XVIIL  21. 

Cos'i  da  imo  della  roccia  scogli 
Movcu. 


404  NOTES. 

— from  tlio  rock's  low  base 
Tims  Hint}'  i)atlis  advaiic'd. 
Ill  neither  place  is  actual  motion  intendeil  to  be  expressed. 

V.  52.  That  from  unbidikii  ojjice  awes  mankind.]  Sec  2  Sam.  c.  vL 
6,7. 

V.  58.  Preccdinf/.]    Ibid.  14,  &c 

V.  08.  Grcf/on/.]  St.  Grofrory's  prayers  are  said  to  have  delivered 
Trajan  from'  hell.     See  Paradise,  Canto  XX.  40. 

V.  ()'.).  Trajan  th'  J'Jmpcror.]  For  this  story,  Laiidino  refers  to  two 
■writers,  wliom  he  calls  "  Hennando,"  of  France,  by  whom  ho  mcms 
Elinaiid,  a  monk  and  chronicler,  in  the  reign  of  Philip  Aui^ustus,  and 
"  Polycrato,"  of  England,  by  whom  is  meant  John  of  Salisbury,  author 
of  the  Polycraticus  de  Curialiiim  Nugis,  in  the  twelfth  century.  The 
passage  in  the  text  I  find  to  be  nearly  a  translation  from  that  work,  1.  v. 
c.  8.  The  original  appears  to  be  in  Dio  Cassiiis,  where  it  is  told  of  tho 
Emperor  Hadrian,  lib.  Ixix.  a^cAet  yucaDcbs,  «•  t.  a.  "  when  a  woman  ap- 
peared to  him  with  a  suit,  as  he  was  on  a  journey,  at  first  he  answered 
jier,  'I  have  no  leisure  ;'  but  she  crying  out  to  him,  'then  reigu  uo 
longer,'  he  turned  about,  and  heard  her  cause." 

V.  119.  As  to  sup})ort.]  Chillingworth,  ch.  vi.  §  54,  speaks  of  "  those 
crouching  anticks,  which  seem  in  great  buildings  to  labour  under  the 
weight  they  bear."  And  Lord  Shaftesbury  has  a  similar  illustration  iu 
his  Essay  ou  V\' it  and  Humour,  p.  4.  s.  3. 


CANTO  XI. 

'  V.  1.  0  thou  Almif/?ity  FatJier.']    The  first  four  lines  are  borrowed  by 
Pulci,  Jlorg.  Magg.  c.  vi. 

Dante,  iu  his  '  Credo,'  has  again  versified  the  Lord's  prayer. 

V.  58.  I  icas  of  Lativm.]  Omberto,  the  son  of  Guglielmo  Aldobran- 
desco.  Count  of  Santafiore,  iu  the  territory  of  Sienna,  llis  arrogance 
provoked  his  countrymen  to  such  a  pitch  of  fury  against  him,  that  he 
was  murdered  by  them  at  Campagnatico. 

V.  79.  Oderifji/]  The  illuminator,  or  miniature  painter,  a  friend  of 
Giotto  and  Dante. 

V.  83.  lioloanian  Franco."]  Franco  of  Bologna,  who  is  said  to  have 
been  a  pupil  of  Oderigi's. 

V.  93.  Cimabiie.]  Giovanni  Cimabue,  the  restorer  of  painting,  was 
born  at  Florence,  of  a  noble  family,  iu  1240,  and  died  iu  1300.  The  paa- 
eage  iu  the  text  is  an  illusion  to  his  epitaph  : 

Credidit  ut  Cimabos  picturze  castra  tenere, 
Sic  tenuit  viveus  :  nunc  teuet  astra  poll. 

V.  95.  The  cry  is  Giotto^s.]  In  Gi(;tto  we  have  a  ])roof  at  how  early  a 
period  the  fine  arts  were  encouraged  in  Italy.  His  talents  were  discov- 
ered by  Cimabue,  while  he  was  tending  sheep  for  his  father  in  the 
neighbinirhood  of  Florence,  and  he  was  afterwards  patronized  bv  Po])e 
Benedict  XI.  and  Robert  King  of  Naples,  and  enjoyed' the  society  and 
friendship  of  Dante,  whose  likeness  he  has  transmitted  to  posterity.  He 
died  in  133G,  at  the  age  of  GO. 

V.  96.  One  Guidofrom  the  other.]  Guido  Cavalcanti,  the  friend  of  our 
Poet,  (see  Hell,  Canto  X.  59.)  had  eclipsed  the  literary  fame  of  Guido 
Guiuieelli,  of  a  noble  family  iu  Bologna,  whom  we  shall  meet  with  iu 


PURGATORY.  406 

the  twenty-sixth  Canto,  .and  of  whom  iTeqnent  mention  is  made  by  onr 
Poet  in  liis  Treatise  do  Vuls.  Eloq.  Giiinicelli  died  in  1276.  Many  of 
Cuvalciinti's  writings,  hitherto  in  MS.  are  now  pubUshing  at  Florence. 
Esprit  des  Journaux,  Jan.  1813. 

V.  97.  He  perhaps  is  born.]  Some  imagine,  with  mnch  probability, 
tliat  Dante  liere  augurs  the  greatness  of  his  own  poetical  reputation. 
Others  have  fancied  that  he  prophesies  the  glory  of  Petrarch.  lUit  Pe- 
trarch was  not  yet  born. 

V.  136.  A  suitor.]  Provenzano  Salvani  liumbled  himself  so  f.ar  for  the 
pake  of  one  of  his  friends,  who  was  detained  in  captivity  by  Charles  I.  of 
Sicily,  as  personally  to  supplicate  the  people  of  Sienna  to  contribute  the 
Bum  required  by  the  king  for  his  ransom  :  and  this  act  of  self-abasement 
atoned  for  his  general  ambition  and  pride. 

V.  140.  Thy  ?iei{/hbors  soo7i.]  "  Thou  wilt  know  in  the  time  of  thy 
banishment,  which  is  near  at  hand,  what  it  is  to  solicit  favours  of  others, 
and  '  tremble  through  every  vein,'  lest  they  should  be  refused  thee." 


CANTO  XII. 

V.  26.  The  Thymbrcen  god.]    Apollo, 

Si  modo,  quem  perhibes,  pater  est  Thymbrseus  Apollo. 

Virg.  Oeorg.  iv.  323. 

V.  27.  Mars.]  "With  snch  a  grace, 

Tlie  giants  that  attempted  to  scale  heaven. 
When  they  lay  dead  on  the  Phlegneu  plain, 
Mars  did  appear  to  Jove. 

Beaumont  and  Fletcher,  The  Pro- 
phetess, a.  2.  s.  3. 
T.  42.   0  Rehoboam.]     1  Kings,  c.  xii.  18. 

V.  46.  Alcimeon.]    Yirg.  ^Eu.  1.  vi.  445,  and  Homer,  Od.  xi.  325. 
V.  48.  Sennacherib.]     2  Kings,  c.  six.  37. 
V.  58.  What  master  of  the  pencil  or  the  style.] 

—inimitable  on  earth 
By  model,  or  by  shading  pencil  drawn. 

Milton,  P.  L.  b.  iii.  509. 
V.  94.   The  chapel  sta7ids.]    The  church  of  San  Miniato  in  Florence, 
eituated  on  a  height  that  overlooks  the  Arno,  where  it  is  crossed  by  the 
bridge  Rubaconte,  so  called  from  Messer  Rubaconte  da  Mandella,  of 
Milan,  chief  magistrate  of  Florence,  by  whom  the  bridge  was  founded 
in  1237.     See  G.  Villani,  1.  vi.  c.  27. 
V.  96.  3%e  icell-guided  city.]    This  is  said  ironically  of  Florence. 
V.  99.  The  registry.]    In  allusion  to  certain  instances  of  fraud  com- 
mitted with  respect  to  the  public  accounts  and  measures.    See  Paradise, 
Canto  XVI.  103. 

CANTO  xm. 

V.  26.  They  have  no  loine.]    John,  ii.  3.    These  words  of  the  Virgin 
are  referred  to  as  an  instance  of  charity. 
V.  29.  Ch-estcs.]    Alluding  to  his  friendship  with  Pylades. 
V.  32.  Love  ye  those  have  wrong'd  you.]    Matt.  c.  v.  44. 


406  NOTES. 

V.  .•?.•?.  The  srovrfic']     "Tho  chastisement  of  envy  consists  in  lioaring 

exain|iios  of  tlio  ()p|)osite  virtue,  charity.  As  a  curb  and  restraint  on 
this  vice,  you  will  presently  liear  very  dill'erent  soiuuls,  those  of  tlireab- 
enins  and  punishment." 

V.  87.  Citizens 

Of  one  true  city.'] 

•'  For  here  we  have  no  continuing  city,  but  we  seek  to  come."  Heb. 
c.  xiii.  14. 

V.  101.  Sapia.']  A  lady  of  Sienna,  who,  living  in  exile  at  CoUe,  was  so 
overjoyed  at  a  defeat  which  her  countrymen  sustained  near  tliat  place, 
that  slic  declared  nothing  more  was  wanting  to  make  lier  die  contented. 

V.  114.  TIiP  merlin.']  The  story  of  tlie  merlin  is,  that  having  been 
induced  by  a  gleam  of  fine  weather  in  the  winter  to  escape  from  his 
master,  he  was  soon  oppressed  by  the  rigour  of  the  season. 

V.  119.  Tlie  hermit  Piero.]  Piero  Pettiuagno,  a  holy  hermit  ol 
Florence. 

V.  141.  That  vain  mnltitmle.]  Tlie  Siennese.  See  ITell,  Canto  XXIX. 
117.  "Their  acquisition  of  Telamone,  a  seaport  on  the  confines  of  the 
Maremma,  has  led  them  to  conceive  hojies  of  becoming  a  naval  power  : 
but  this  scheme  will  prove  as  chimerical  as  their  former  plan  for  the 
discovery  of  a  subterraneous  stream  under  their  city."  Why  they  gave 
the  appellation  of  Diana  to  the  imagined  stream,  Veuturi  says  he  leaves 
it  to  the  antiquaries  of  Sienna  to  conjecture. 


CANTO  XIV. 

T.  34.  Malm'd  ofPelorus.']    Virg.  JKn.  1.  iii.  414. 
—a  hill 
Torn  from  Pelorus. 

Milton,  P.  L.  b.  i.  232. 

V.  45.  'Midst  brnte  swine.]    The  people  of  Casentino. 

V.  49.  Curs.]    The  Arno  leaves  Arezzo  about  four  miles  to  the  left. 

V.  53.   'Wolves.]     The  Florentines. 

V.  55.  Foxes.]    The  Pisans. 

V.  61.  TJiy  grandson.]  Fulcieri  de'  Calboli,  grandson  of  Rinieri  de' 
Calboli,  who  is  here  spoken  to.  The  atrocities  predicted  came  to  pass  in 
1302.     See  G.  Villain,  1.  viii.  c.  59. 

V.  95.  '  Tiuixl  Po,  the  mount,  the  Reno,  and  the  shore.]  The  boundaries 
of  Romagna. 

V.  99.  Lizio.]  Lizio  da  Valbona,  introduced  into  Boccaccio's  De- 
cameron, G.  V.  N.  4. 

V.  100.  Manardl,  Traversaro,  and  Carpigna.]  Arrigo  Manardi  of 
Faenza,  or  as  some  say,  of  Brettinoro  ;  Pier  Traversaro,  lord  of  Ra- 
venna ;  and  Guido  di  Carpigna  of  Montefeltro. 

v.  102.  In  Bologna  the  Imn  artisan.]  One  who  had  been  a  mechanic, 
named  Lambertaccio,  arrived  at  almost  supreme  power  in  Bologna. 

V.  103.  To)i  Dernardin.]  Bernardin  di  Fosco,  a  man  of  low  origin, 
but  great  talents,  who  governed  at  Faenza. 

V.  107.  Prata.]     A  place  between  Faenza  and  Ravenna. 

V.  107.  Of  Azzo  him.]  Ugolino,  of  the  Ubaldini  family  in  Tuscany. 
He  is  recouriced  among  the  poets  by  Crescimbeni  and  Tiraboschi. 

V.  108.   Tignoso.]    Federigo  Tignoso  of  Rimini. 


^- 


PURGATORY.  407 

V.  109.  Traversaro's  hoitxe  and  Anastctf/io's.]  Two  noble  families  of 
Ravenna.  She  to  whom  Dryden  has  given  the  name  of  Honoria,  in  the 
fable  so  admirably  paraphrased  from  Boccaccio,  was  of  the  former  :  her 
lover  and  tlie  spectre  were  of  the  Anastagi  family. 

V.  111.  The  ladies,  d:c.]  These  two  lines  express  the  true  spirit  of 
chivalry.  "  Agi "  is  understood  by  the  conmientators  whom  I  have  con- 
sulted, to  mean  "the  ease  procurfd  for  others  by  the  exertions  of 
knight-errantry."  But  surely  it  signifies  the  alternation  of  ease  with 
labour. 

V.  114.  0  Brettiiioro.]  A  beautifully  situated  castle  in  Romagua,  the 
hospitable  residence  of  Guido  del  Duca,  who  is  here  speaking. 

V.  118.  Baynacavallo.]    A  castle  between  Imola  and  Ravenna. 

V.  118.  Castracaro  ill 

And  Conio  ivorsc]  Both  in  Romagna. 

V.  121.  Pagani.']  The  Pagani  were  lords  of  Faenza  and  Imola.  One 
of  them,  Machinardo,  was  nauied  tlie  Lemon,  from  his  treachery.  See 
Hell,  Canto  XXVII.  47,  and  Note. 

V.  124.  Hufjolin.]  Ugolino  Ubaldini,  a  noble  and  virtuous  person  in 
Faenza,  who,  on  account  of  his  age  probably,  was  not  likely  to  leave 
any  offspring  behind  him.  He  is  enumerated  among  the  poets  by  Cres- 
cirnbeni,  and  Tiraboschi.     Mr.  Matthias's  edit.  vol.  i.  p.  143. 

V.  136.  Whosoever  finds 

Will  slay  7>ie.] 
The  words  of  Cain,  Gen.  c.  iv.  14. 

V.  142.  Aglaiiros.]    Ovid,  Met.  1,  ii.  fab.  12. 

v.  145.  There  loas  the  galling  hit.']  Referring  to  what  had  been  before 
Bald,  Canto  XIU.  35. 

CANTO    XV. 

V.  1.  As  much.']    It  wanted  three  hours  of  sunset. 

V.  16.  As  ichen  the  ray.]  Compare  Virg.  Mn.  1.  viii.  22,  and  Apoll. 
Rhod.  1.  iii.  755. 

v.  19.  Ascending  at  a  glance!]    Lucretius,  1.  iv.  215. 

V.  20.  Differs  from  the  stone.]  The  motion  of  light  being  quicker  than 
that  of  a  stone  through  an  equal  space. 

V.  38.  Blessed  the  mercifid.]     Matt.  c.  v.  7. 

V.  43.  Romagna' s  spirit.]  Guido  del  Duca,  of  Brettinoro,  whom  we 
have  seen  in  the  preceding  Canto. 

V.  87.  A  da7ne.]    Luke,  c.  ii.  48 

v.  101.  Hoio  shall  we  those  req^(ite.]  The  answer  of  Pisistratus  the 
tyrant  to  his  wife,  when  she  urged  him  to  inflict  the  punishment  of 
death  on  a  young  man,  who,  inflamed  with  love  for  his  daughter,  had 
snatched  from  her  a  kiss  in  public.  The  story  is  told  by  Valerius  Maxi- 
mus,  1.  v.  1. 

V.  105.  A  stripling  youth.]    The  protomartyr  Stephen. 

GANTO  XVI. 

V.  24.  As  thou.]    "  If  thou  wert  still  living." 

V.  46.  /  was  of  Lombard)/,  and  Marco  call'd.]  A  Venetian  gentleman. 
"  Lombardo"  both  was  his  sirname  and  denoted  the  country  to  which 


408  NOTES. 

ho  liclonKcd.    0.  Villani,  1.  vii.  c.  120,  lornis  him  "  a  wise  and  worthy 
fiiintior." 

V.  M.  Ehnrhcrc.']  He  refers  to  wliiit  rinido  dol  V>\\n  Imd  said  in  the 
foiirtocnth  Canto,  concerning  llic  dc^^cnoracy  of  liis  coiinlrvnien. 

V.  70.  If  this  were  so.]  Mr.  Crowe  in  his  Lewe.sdoii  Hill  has  exi^ressed 
eimilar  Bentiments  witli  much  energy. 

Of  this  be  sure, 
Where  freedom  is  not,  there  no  virtue  is,  &c. 

Compare  Origen  iu  Genesim,  Patrum  Gra.'Corum,  vol.  xi.  p.  14.  Wirc©- 
burgi,  1783.  8vo. 

V.  7'.t.  To  inif/htier  fvrce.]  "  Though  ye  are  subject  to  a  higher  power 
than  that  of  tlie  heavenly  constellations,  even  to  the  power  of  the  great 
Creator  himself,  yet  ye  are  titill  left  in  the  iiossession  of  liberty." 

V.  88.  Like  a  bcibc  that  icantons  sportively.]    This  reminds  one  of  the 
Emperor  Hadrian's  verses  to  his  departing  soul: 
Auimula  vagula  blandula,  &c. 

V.  99.  The  fortress.]  Justice,  the  most  necessary  virtue  in  the  chiel 
magistrate,  as  the  commentators  explain  it. 

V.  103.  Who.]  He  compares  the  Pope,  on  account  of  the  union  of  the 
temporal  with  the  spiritual  power  in  his  person,  to  an  unclean  beast  in 
the  levitical  law.  "  The  camel,  because  he  clieweth  the  cud,  but  divideth 
not  the  hoof  ;  he  is  unclean  unto  you."     Levit.  c.  xi.  4. 

V.  110.  Tivo  suns.]    The  Emperor  and  the  Bishop  of  Rome. 

V.  117.   That  landf]    Lombardy. 

V.  119.  Ere  the  day.]  Before  the  Emperor  Frederick  H.  was  defeated 
before  Parma,  in  1248.    G.  Villaui,  1.  vi.  c.  35. 

V.  126.  The  r/ood  Gherardo.]  Gherardo  di  Camino,  of  Trevigi.  Ho  is 
honourably  mentioned  in  our  Poet's  "  Convito."  Opere  di  Dante,  t.  i. 
p.  173.  Venez.  8vo.  1793.  And  Tiraboschi  supposes  him  to  have  been  the 
same  Gherardo  with  whom  the  Provencal  poets  were  used  to  meet  a 
liospitable  reception.     See  Mr.  Matthias's  edition,  t.  i.  p.  137. 

V.  127.  Conrad.]    Currado  da  Palazzo,  a  gentleman  of  Brescia. 

V.  127.  Guido  of  Castello.]  Of  Reggio.  All  the  Italians  were  called 
Lombards  by  the  French. 

V.  144.  His  davyhtcr  Gain.]  A  lady  equally  admired  for  her  modesty, 
the  beauty  of  her  person,  and  the  excellency  of  her  talents.  Gaia,  says 
Tiraboschi,  may  perhaps  lay  claim  to  the  praise  of  having  been  the  first 
among  the  Italian  ladies,  by  whom  the  vernacular  poetry  was  cultivated. 
Ibid.  p.  137. 

CANTO  xvn. 

V.  21.  The  bird,  that  most 

Delights  itself  in  song.] 

I  cannot  think  with  Vellutello,  that  the  swallow  is  here  meant.  Dante 
probably  alludes  to  the  story  of  Philomela,  as  it  is  found  in  Homer's 
Odyssey,  b.  xix.  518,  rather  than  as  later  poets  have  told  it.  "  She  in- 
tended to  slay  the  son  of  her  husband's  brother  Amphion,  incited  to  it, 
by  the  envy  of  his  wife,  who  had  six  children,  while  herself  had  only  two 
liiit  through  mistake  slew  her  own  son  Itylus,  and  for  her  punishment 
was  transformed  by  Jupiter  into  a  nightingale."  Cowper's  note  on  the 
passage. 

In  P]>ea)cing  of  the  nightingale,  let  me  observe,  that  while  some  have 


PURGATORY.  409 

considered  its  song  .is  n,  molanclioly,  and  others  ivs  Ji  cheerful  one,  Cliia- 
brera  apiicars  to  liave  come  nearest  the  truth,  wlien  he  says,  in  the  AI- 
cippo,  a.  i.  s.  1, 

Non  raai  si  stanca  d'  iterar  le  note, 

O  gioconde  o  dogliose, 

Al  scntir  dilettose. 

Unwearied  still  reiterates  her  lays, 
Jocund  or  sad,  delightful  to  the  ear. 
V.  2().  One  crucified.']    Ilanian.     See  the  book  of  Esther,  c.  vii. 
V.  34.  A  damsel.]     Lavinia,  mourning  for  lier  mother  Ainata,  who, 
impelled  by  grief  and  indign.ation  for  the  supposed  death  of  Turims,  de- 
stroyed herself,    ^n.  1.  xii.  595. 

V.  42.  TTie  broken  slumber  quivering  ere  it  dies.]  Venturi  suggests 
that  this  bold  and  unusual  metaphor  may  have  been  formed  on  that  in 
VirgU : 

Tempus  erat  quo  prima  quies  mortalibus  segris 
Incipit,  et  dono  divflm  gratissima  serpit 

^n.  1.  ii.  268. 

V.  G8.  The  peace-makers.]    Matt.  c.  v.  9. 

V.  81.  Tfielove.]  "  A  defect  in  our  love  towards  God,  or  lukewarm- 
ness  in  piety,  is  here  removed." 

V.  94.  The  primal  blessinrjs.]     Spiritual  good. 

V.  95.    77t'  inferior.]     Temporal  good. 

V.  102.  Noiv.]  "  It  is  impossible  for  any  being,  either  to  hate  itself,  or 
to  hate  the  First  Cause  of  all,  by  which  it  exists.  We  can  therefore  only 
rejoice  in  the  evil  which  befalls  others." 

V.  111.   There  is.]    The  proud. 

V.  114.   There  is.]    The  envious. 

V.  117.   There  is  he.]    The  resentful. 

V.  135.  Along  Three  circles .]  According  to  the  allegorical  commenti- 
tors,  as  Venturi  has  observed,  Reason  is  re|)resented  under  the  ])erson  of 
Virgil,  and  Sense  under  that  of  Dante.  The  former  leaves  to  the  latter 
to  discover  for  itself  the  three  carnal  sins,  avarice,  gluttony,  and  libid- 
iuousness ;  having  already  declared  the  nature  of  the  spiritual  sins, 
pride,  envy,  auger,  and  indifference,  or  lukewarmness  in  piety,  which 
the  Italians  caU  accidia,  from  the  Greek  word  a/cijSia. 

CANTO  xvm. 

V.  1.  The  teacher  ended.]  Compare  Plato,  Protagoras,  v.  iii.  p.  123. 
Bip.  edit.  Upuirayopa^  iiev  TOcrauTa,  k.  t.  A.  Apoll.  Rliod.  1. 1.  513,  and  Miltoii, 
p.  L.  b.  viii.  1. 

The  angel  ended,  &c. 

V.  23.  Your  apprehension.]  It  is  literally,  "  Your  apprehensive  faculty 
derives  intension  from  a  thing  really  existing,  and  displays  the  inten- 
sion within  yon,  so  that  it  makes  the  soul  turn  to  it.''  The  comment.a- 
tors  labour  in  explaining  this;  and  whatever  sense  they  have  elicited 
may,  I  think,  be  resolved  into  tlie  words  of  the  translation  in  the  text. 

V.  47.  Spirit.]  The  huuKin  sonl,  which  differs  from  tliat  of  brutes, 
inasmuch  as,  though  united  with  the  body,  it  has  a  separate  existence  of 
ita  own. 

V.  G5.  Those  men.]    The  great  moral  philosophers  among  the  heathens 


410  NOTES. 

V.  78.  A  craq.']  I  have  preforrod  tlio  roadins  of  Landino,  nrhfifffp'on, 
'I  "  cruij,"  c'oiicciviiij::  it  to  Ix^  iiioi'O  ])ootic;il  than  srrrhion,  "  liiicl;('t.''  whicli 
I  is  the  {'oiiiiiioii  i-cadiii;^.  The  sanie  caiiso,  the  vapoius,  which  the  C(jiii- 
I  incntators  say  iiri^ht  ix'wa  the  ap]iearance  of  iufroased  niasnitude  to  the 
I  11)0011,  iiiisht  also  make  her  Heeiii  broken  at  her  rise. 
I  V.  78.  Up  the  vaidL]     The  luooii  passed  with  a  motion  op])Osite  to  that 

I  of  the  lieavens,  tiiroii^ili  the  ('oiistcllatiiiii  of  tlie  scorpion,  in  whicli  tlie 
8  Bun  is,  when  to  those  who  are  in  lioiue  he  apiiears  to  set  between  the 
\        isles  of  Corsica  and  Sardinia. 

V.  84.  Andes.]     Andes,  now  Pietola,  made  more  famous  than  Mantua, 
il       near  which  it  is  situated,  bj^  having  been  the  birthplace  of  Virgil, 
I  V.  92.  I.^DK'niis  (Did  Asopus.]    Rivers  near  Thebes. 

I  V.  98.  Man/.]     Luke,  c.  i.  3it,  40. 

I  V.  it!).  C'«!.s<;/c.]     See  Liican,  Phars.  1.  iii.  and  iv.,  and  Caesar,  de  Bello 

I  Civili,  1.  i.  Ciesar  left  Brutus  to  comi)lete  the  seijre  of  Marseilkjs,  and 
1  hastened  on  to  the  attack  of  Afranius  and  Petreius,the  generals  of  Pom- 
■        pey,  at  Ileida  (Lerida)  in  Spain. 

'  V.  118.  Abbot.]    Alberto,  abbot  of  San  Zeno  in  Verona,  when  Freder- 

ick I.  was  emperor,  by  whom  Milan  was  besieged  and  reduced  to  ashes, 
in  1102. 
;  V.  121.  There  is  he.]    Alberto  della  Scala,  lord  of  Veroua,  who  had 

I        made  his  natural  son  abbot  of  San  Zeno. 

?  V.  133.  First  they  died.]    The  Israelites,  who,  on  account  of  their  dis- 

l       obedience,  died  before  reaching  the  promised  laud. 
;  V.  135.  A7id  they.]    Virg.  .iEu.  1.  v. 

I 

!  CANTO  XIX. 

t 

V.  1.  The  hour.]    Near  the  dawn. 

V.  4.  The  geomancer.  The  geomancers,  says  Landino,  when  they 
divined,  drew  a  figure  consisting  of  sixteen  marks,  named  from  so  many 
stars  which  constitute  the  end  of  Aquarius  and  the  beginning  of  Pisces. 
One  of  these  they  called  "  the  greater  fortune." 

V.  7.  A  ivoman's  shcqye.]    Worldly  happiness.    This  allegory  reminds 
us  of  the  "  Choice  of  Hercules." 
1  Y.  li.  Love's  own  hiie.] 

\  A  smile  that  glow'd 

[  Celestial  rosy  red,  love's  projjcr  hue. 

I  Milton,  P.  L.  b.  viii.  619. 

I  — fades  pulcherrima  tunc  est, 

j  Qnura  porphyriaco  variatur  Candida  rubro. 

;  Quid  color  hie  roseus  sibi  vult?  designat  amorem: 

iQuii^De  amor  est  igni  sirailis;  flammasque  rubentes 
Ignis  habere  solet. 
Palingenii  Zodiacus  Vitce,  1.  xii. 
V.  26.  A  dame.]    Philosophy. 
I  ▼.  49.    Who  mown.]     Matt.  c.  v.  4. 

f  ▼.  72.  My  sotd.]     Psalm  cxix.  25. 

f  V.  97.  The  successor  of  Peter.]     Ottobuono,  of  the  family  of  Fieschi, 

[J       Counts  of  Lavagna,  died  thirty-nine  days  after  he  became  Pope,  with  the 

title  of  Adrian  V.  in  127G. 
I]  V.  98.  That  stremn.]    The  river  Lavagna,  in  the  Genoese  territory. 

V.  135.   Nor  shall  be  (jiv'n  in  marriage.]    Matt,  c  xxii.  30.    "  Since  in 


PUnOATORY.  411 

this  state  we  neitlier  marry  nor  are  given  in  marriapje,  I  am  no  lonper 
the  spouse  of  the  cliiircli,  and  tlieiefore  no  longer  retain  my  former  dig- 
nity." 

V.  140.  A  kinfico7van.'\  Alngia  is  said  to  have  been  the  wife  of  tlie 
Marchese  Marcello  Malaspina,  one  of  the  poet's  protectors  during  his 
exile.    See  Cauto  VIII.  133. 

CANTO    XX. 

V.  3.  I  dreiD  the  sponge.']  "  I  did  not  persevere  in  my  inquiries  from 
the  spirit,  though  still  anxious  to  learn  more.'' 

V.  11.   Wolf.]    Avarice. 

V.  16.  Of  his  appeariiifi.]  He  is  thought  to  allude  to  Can  Grande  della 
Scala.     See  Hell,  Canto'  I.  98. 

V.  25.  Fabrkius-I     Compare  Petrarch,  Tr.  della  Fama,  c.  1. 
Uu  Curio  ed  un  Fabricio,  &c. 

V.  30.  Nicholas.']  The  story  of  Nicliolas  is,  that  an  angel  having  re- 
vealed to  him  that  the  father  of  a  family  was  so  impoverished  as  to  re- 
solve on  exposing  the  chastity  of  his  three  daughters  to  sale,  he  threw 
in  at  the  window  of  their  liouse  three  bags  of  money,  containing  a  suffi- 
cient i)ortion  for  each  of  them. 

V.  42.   Root.]    Hugh  Capet,  ancestor  of  Philip  FV. 

V.  46.  Had  Ghent  and  Douay,  Lille  and  Bvvges  poicer.]  These  cities 
had  lately  been  seized  by  Philip  IV.  The  spirit  is  made  to  imitate  the 
approaching  defeat  of  the  French  army  by  the  Flemings,  in  the  battle  of 
Courtrai,  which  happened  in  1302. 

V.  51.  The  slaughterer's  trade.]  Tliis  reflection  on  the  birth  of  his  an- 
cestor induced  Francis  I.  to  forbid  the  reading  of  Dante  in  his  dominions. 
Hugh  Capet,  who  came  to  the  throne  of  France  in  i)87,  was  however  the 
grandson  of  Robert,  who  was  the  brother  of  Eudes,  King  of  France  iu 
888. 

v.  52.  All  save  one.]  The  posterity  of  Charlemagne,  the  second  race 
of  French  monarchs,  had  failed,  with  the  exception  of  Charles  of  Lor- 
raine, who  is  said,  on  account  of  the  melancholy  temper  of  his  mind,  to 
have  always  clothed  himself  in  black.  Venturi  suggests  that  Dante  may 
have  confounded  him  with  Childeric  III.  the  last  of  the  Merovingian,  or 
first,  race,  who  was  deposed  and  made  a  monk  in  751. 

V.  57.  My  son. — Hugh  Capet  caused  his  son  Robert  to  be  crowned  at 
Orleans. 

V.  59.  The  Great  dower  of  Provence.]  Louis  IX.  and  his  brother, 
Charles  of  Anjou,  married  two  of  the  four  daughters  of  Raymond  Beren- 
ger.  Count  of  Provence.     See  Par.  Canto  VI.  135. 

V.  63.  For  amend,<>.]    This  is  ironical. 

V.  64.  Poitou  it  seiz'd,  Navarre  and  Gaseony.]     I  venture  to  read — 
Potti  e  Navarra  prese  e  Guascogna, 
instead  of 

Ponti  e  Normandia  prese  e  Guascogna. 
Seiz'd  Ponthieu,  Normandy  and  Gascogny. 

Landino  has  "Potti,"  and  he  is  probably  right:  for  Poitou  was  an- 
nexed to  the  French  crown  by  Philip  IV.  See  Renault,  Abrege  Chron. 
A.  D.  1283,  &c.  Normandy  had  been  united  to  it  long  before  by  Philip 
Augustus,  a  circumstance  of  which  it  is  difficult  to  imagine  that  Dante 


412  NOTKS. 

Bboiild  liavo  ho.on  isnomut;  butriiilip  IV.,  says  Ilonniilt,  il)i<l.,  took  tlie 
t-itlo  of  KiiiLj  of  Xiivarrc:  and  the  siil)jii;,'atioii  of  Navarre  is  also  alluded 
to  ifi  the  I'aradise,  Canto  XIX.  140.  In  l'2\y.'>,  riiilip  IV.  siirmioiied 
Edward  I.  to  do  him  hoiiiafje  for  tlio  duchy  of  Gasco^Miy,  wlilch  lie  had 
conceived  the  desij,'n  of  seizinf^.     See  (i.  Villaiii,  1.  \  iii.  c.  4. 

V.  GO.  Young  Cviiradiae.]  Charles  of  Anjou  i)ut  Coiiradiiie  to  de;ith 
in  12G8,  and  becjinio  King  of  Naples.  See  Hell,  Canto  XXVIII.  Ki,  and 
Note. 

V.  07.  Th'  anrielic  teacher.']  Thomas  Aqninas.  Ho  was  reported  to 
liavo  been  jjoi.soncd  by  a  jihysirian,  who  wished  to  inf^ratiaU;  himself 
v.ith  Charles  of  Anjou.  G.  Villani,  1.  ix.  c.  218.  We  shall  find  liiui  in 
the  Paradise,  Canto  X. 

V.  (W.  Arwtlur  Charles.']  Charles  of  Valois,  bi-othcr  of  I'liilip  IV.,  was 
sent  by  Pope  Boniface  VHI.  to  settle  the  disturbed  state  of  Florence,  in 
consequence  of  the  measures  he  adopted  for  that  purpose,  our  poet  and 
liis  friends  were  condemned  to  exile  and  death. 

V.  7L  — with  that  luiice 

Which  the  arch-traitor  tilted  tuith.] 
— con  la  lancia 
Con  la  qual  giostro  Guida. 

If  I  remember  right,  in  one  of  the  old  romances,  Judas  is  represented 
tilting  with  our  Saviour. 

V.  78.  The  other.]  Charles,  King  of  Naples,  the  eldest  son  of  Charles 
of  Anjou,  having,  contrary  to  the  directions  of  his  father,  engaged  with 
Ruggier  de  Lauria,  the  admiral  of  Peter  of  Arragon,  w.'is  made  prisoner, 
and  carried  into  Sicily,  June,  1284.  He  afterwards,  in  consideration  of  a 
large  sum  of  money,  married  his  daughter  to  Azzo  VIII.,  Marquis  of 
Ferrara. 

V.  85.  The  floioer-de-htce.]  Boniface  VIII.  was  seized  at  Alagna  in 
Campagna,  by  order  of  Philip  IV.,  in  the  year  1303,  and  soon  after  died 
of  grief.    G.  Villani,  1.  viii.  c.  03. 

V.  94.  Into  the  temple.]  It  is  uncertain  whether  our  Poet  alludes  still 
to  the  event  mentioned  in  the  preceding  Note,  or  to  the  destruction  of  the 
order  of  the  Templars  in  1310;  but  the  latter  appears  more  probable. 

V.  103.  Pygmalion.]    Virg.  ^n.  1.  i.  348. 

V.  107.  Aciian.]    Joshua,  c.  vii. 

V.  111.  Ileliodorus.]  2  Maccabees,  c.  iii.  25.  "  For  there  appeared 
unto  them  a  horse,  with  a  terrible  rider  upon  him,  and  adorned  \\  ith  a 
very  fair  covering,  and  he  ran  fiercely  and  smote  at  Heliodorus  with  his 
fore  feet." 

V.  112.  Thracia's  king.]  Polymuestor,  tlie  murderer  of  Polydorus. 
Hell,  Canto  XXX.  19. 

V.  114.  Crass}ts.]  Marcus  Crassus,  who  fell  miserably  in  the  Parthian 
war.    See  Appian,  Partliica. 


CANTO    XXI. 

V.  25.  She.]    Lachesis,  one  of  the  three  fates. 
V.  43.  — that,  lohlch  heaven  in  itself 

Doth  of  itself  7'eccive.] 
Venturi,  I  think  rightly,  interprets  this  to  bo  light. 
V.  49.  Thanmantian.]     Figlia  di  Taumante. 

@aviia.VTO<i  dvyairip.  Ilesiod,   Thcoq.  780. 


PURGATORY.  413 

Compare  Plato,  Thea't.  v.  ii.  p.  76.  Bip.  edit.  ;  Virj;.  Mn.  ix.  5  ;  ;u)d 

Spenser,  l''aerj  Queen,  b.  v.  c.  Ji.  at.  25. 

V.  85.    T/u;  vamc]     Tlie  name  »f  I'oet. 

V.  89.  i'Voru  Tolosa.]  Dante,  as  many  others  liave  done,  confounds 
Statins  the  poet,  who  was  a  Neapolitan,  with  a  rhetorician  of  the  same 
name,  who  was  of  Tolosa,  or  Thoulousev  Tluis  Chaucer,  Temple  of 
Fame,  b.  iii. 

The  Tholason,  that  height  Stace. 

V.  94.  Fell.]    Statins  lived  to  write  only  a  small  part  of  the  Achillcid. 

CANTO  XXII. 

V.  5.  Blessed.]    Matt.  v.  6. 

V.  14.  Aqxdnnm's  hard.]  Juvenal  had  celebrated  his  contemporary, 
Statins,  Sat.  vii.  82  ;  thougli  some  critics  imagine  that  there  is  a  secret 
derision  couched  under  his  prai.so. 

V.  28.  Why.]  Quid  nou  mortalia  pectora  cogis, 

Auri  sacra  fames  ? 

Virg.  Mn .  1.  iii.  57. 

Venturi  supposes  that  Dante  might  have  mistaken  the  meaning  of  the 
•word  sacra,  ixuA  construed  it  "  holy,"  instead  of  "  cursed."  But  I  see 
no  necessity  for  having  recourse  to  so  improbable  a  conjecture. 

V.  41.   The  fierce  encounter.]     See  Hell,  Canto  VII.  20. 

V.  46.   With  shorn  locks.  ]     Ibid.  58. 

V.  57.  Tfte  licin  sorroio  of  Jocasta' s  loomh.]    Eteoclea  and  Polynices. 

V.  71.  A  renovated  ivorld.]    Virg.  Eel.  iv.  5. 

V.  100.   That  Greek.]    Homer. 

V.  107.  Of  thy  train.]     '•  Of  those  celebrated  in  thy  Poem." 

V.  112.  Tiresias'  daughter.]  Dante  appears  to  have  forgotten  tliat  he 
had  placed  Manto,  the  daughter  of  Tiresias,  among  the  sorcerers.  See 
Hell,  Canto  XX.  Vellutello  endeavours,  rather  awkwardly,  to  reconcile 
the  inconsistency,  by  observing,  that  altliough  she  was  X)laled  there  as  a 
sinner,  yet,  as  one  of  famous  memory,  she  had  also  a  place  among  the 
worthies  iu  Limbo. 

Lonibardi  excuses  onr  author  better,  by  observing  that  Tiresias  had  a 
daughter  named  Daphne.     See  Diodorus  Siculus,  1.  iv.  §  06. 

V.  139.  Mary  took  more  thought]  "The  blessed  virgin,  who  answera 
for  you  now  in  heaven,  when  she  said  to  Jesus,  at  the  marriage  in  Cana 
of  Galilee,  '  they  have  no  wine,'  regarded  not  the  gratification  of  her 
own  taste,  but  the  honour  of  the  nuptial  banquet." 

V.  142.   The  women  of  old  Rome.]    See  Valerius  Maximus,  1.  ii!  c.  1. 

CANTO  xxin. 

V.  9.  My  lips.]    Psalm  Ii.  15. 

T.  20.  The  eyes.]    Compare  Ovid,  Metam.  1.  viii.  801. 
V.  26.   When  Mary.]    Josephus,  De  Bello  Jud.  1.  vii.  c.  xxi.  p.  954.  Ed. 
Geuev.  fol.  1611.    The  shocking  story  is  well  told. 
V.  27.  Rings.]  In  this  habit 

Met  I  my  father  with  his  bleeding  rings, 
Their  precious  stoues  new  lost. 

Shakspeare,  Lear,  a.  5.  b.  3. 


414  NOTKS. 

V.  28.  117)0  reads  the  name.']  "  IIo,  who  protends  t)  distinguish  tlie 
letters  which  form  OMO  in  tlic  features  of  the  human  face,  niisiit  easily 
have  traced  out  the  M  on  their  emaciated  conntenauces."  The  templeH, 
nose,  and  forehead  are  supixised  to  represent  this  letter  ;  and  the  eyes 
the  two  O's  placed  within  each  side  of  it. 

V.  44.  J''o;v.se.]  One  of  the  brothers  of  Piccarda,  she  who  is  again 
spoken  of  in  the  next  Canto,  and  introduced  in  the  Paradise,  Canto  III. 

V.  72.  If  the  power.']  "  If  thou  didst  delay  thy  rei)entance  to  the  last, 
when  thou  hadst  lost  the  power  of  sinning,  how  happens  it  thou  ait 
arrived  here  so  early  ?'' 

V.  76.  Lower.']    In  tlie  Ante-Purgatory,     See  Canto  II. 

V.  80.  My  Nclln.]    The  wife  of  Forese. 

v.  87.  The  tract  7nost  barVroiis  of  Sardinians  isle.']  The  Barba[/ia  is 
a  i^art  of  Sardinia,  to  whicli  that  name  was  given,  on  account  of  tlie 
nncivilized  state  of  its  inliabitauts,  who  are  said  to  have  gone  nearly 
naked. 

V.  94.  The^  intbhishinr/  dames  of  Florence.]  Landino's  note  exhibits  a 
curious  instance  of  the  changeableness  of  his  countrywomen.  He  even 
goes  beyond  the  acrimony  of  tlie  original.  "  In  those  days,"  says  the 
commentator,  "no  less  than  in  ours,  the  Florentine  ladies  exposed  the 
neck  and  bosom,  a  dress,  no  doubt,  more  suitable  to  a  harlot  than  a 
matron.  But,  as  they  changed  soon  after,  insomuch  that  they  wore 
collars  up  to  the  chin,  covering  the  whole  of  the  neck  and  throat,  so 
have  I  hopes  they  will  change  again  ;  not  indeed  so  much  from  motives 
of  decency,  as  through  that  fickleness,  which  pervades  every  action  of 
their  lives." 

V.  97.  Saracens.]  "This  word,  during  the  middle  ages,  Mas  indis- 
criminately api)lied  to  Pagans  .and  Mahometans  ;  in  short,  to  all  na- 
tions (except  the  Jews)  who  did  not  profess  Christianity."  Mr.  Ellis's 
Specimens  of  Early  English  Metrical  Romances,  vol.  i.  page  196,  a  note. 
Lond.  8vo.  1805. 


CANTO  XXIV. 


V.  20.  Bnovagrjhtnta.]    Buonaggiunta  Urbiciani,  of  Lucca.    "Tliere 
Is  a  canzone  by  this  poet,  iirinted  in  the  collection  made  by  the  Giunti, 

j  (p.  209,)  and  a  sonnet  to  Guido  Guinicelli  in  that  made  by  Corbinelli,  (j). 

I  169,)  from  which  we  collect  that  he  lived  not  about  1230,  as  Quadrio 

'{  supposes,  (t.  ii.  p.  159,)  but  towards  the  end  of  the  thirteenth  century. 

i  Concerning  other  poems  by  Buonaggiunta,  that  are  preserved  in  ^iS.  in 

I  .some  libraries,  Crescimbeni  may  be  consulted."     Tiraboschi,  Mr.  Mat- 

i  thias's  ed.  v.  i.  p.  115. 

I  V.  23.  He  loas  of  Toxtrs.]     Simon  of  Tours  became  Pope,  with  the  title 

I  of  Martin  IV.  in  1281,  and  died  in  1285. 

I  V.  29.  Vbaldino.]    Ubaldino  degli  Ubaldini,  of  Pila,  in  the  Florentine 

9  territory. 

I  V.  30.  Boniface.]    Archbishop    of  Ravena.     By  Venturi  he  is  called 

I  Bonifazio  de'  Fieschi,  a  Genoese  ;  by  Vellutello,  the  son  of  the  above- 

5  mentioned  Ubaldini  ;  and  by  Lnndino  Francioso,  a  Frenchman. 

I  V.  32.   The  Marquis.]    The  Marchese  de'  Rigogliosi,  of  Forli. 

s  V.  38.  Gentncca.]     Of  tins  lady  it  is  thought  that  our  Poet  became 

i  enamoured  during  his  exile. 


PURGATORY.  415 

V.  45.  Whose  brow  no  tcimple  shades  i/et.']  "  Who  has  not  yet  assumed 
the  dress  of  a  woman." 

V.  46.  Blame  it  as  they  marj.']     See  Hell,  Canto  XXI.  39. 

T.  51.  Ladies,  ye  that  con  the  lore  o/to/'e.] 

Donne  ch'  aveie  intelletto  d'amore. 

The  first  verse  of  a  canzone  in  our  author's  Vita  Nnova. 

V.  56.  The  Notary.]  Jacopo  da  Lentino,  called  tlie  Notary,  a  poet  of 
these  times.  He  was  probably  an  Apulian  :  for  Dante,  (De  Vulji.  Elt)<|. 
1.  i.  c.  12.)  quoting  a  verse  which  belongs  to  a  canzone  of  his.  published 
by  the  Giunti,  without  mentioning  the  writer's  name,  terms  liim  one  of 
"  the  illustrious  Apulians,"  pra?fulgentes  Apuli.  See  Tiraboschi,  Mr. 
Mattliias's  edit.  vol.  i.  p.  137.  Crescimbeni  (1.  i.  Delia  Volg.  Poes.  p. 
72.  4to.  ed.  16118)  gives  an  extract  from  one  of  his  poems,  printed  in  Al- 
lacci's  Collection,  to  show  that  the  whimsical  compositions  called 
"  Ariette  "  are  not  of  modern  invention. 

v.  56.  Gnittone  ]  Fra  Guittone,  of  Arezzo,  liolds  a  distinguished  place 
in  Italian  literature,  as,  besides  his  poems  printed  in  tlie  collection  of  the 
Giunti,  he  has  left  a  collection  of  letters,  forty  in  number,  which  afford 
the  earliest  specimen  of  that  kind  of  writing  in  the  language.  They 
were  published  at  Rome  in  1743,  with  learneii  illustrations  by  Giovamii 
Bottari.  He  was  also  the  first  who  gave  to  the  sonnet  its  regular  and 
legitimate  form,  a  species  of  composition  in  which  not  only  his  own 
countrymen,  but  many  of  the  best  poets  in  all  the  cultivated  languages 
of  modern  Euroi)e,  have  since  so  much  delighted. 

Guittone,  a  native  of  Arezzo,  was  the  son  of  Yiva  di  Michele.  He  was 
of  the  order  of  the  "  Frati  Godenti,"  of  which  an  account  mav  be  seen 
in  the  Notes  to  Hell,  Canto  XXIII.  It  the  year  1293,  he  founded  a 
monaster}' of  the  order  of  Camaldoli,  in  Florence,  and  died  in  the  follow- 
ing year.  Tiraboschi,  Ibid.  p.  119.  Dante,  in  the  Treatise  de  Yulg. 
Eloq.  1.  i.  c.  13,  and  1.  ii.  c.  6,  blames  him  for  preferring  the  plebeian  to 
the  more  courtly  style;  and  Petrarch  twice  places  twice  him  in  the  com- 
pany of  our  Poet.  Triumph  of  Love,  cap.  iv.  and  Sou.  Par.  Sec.  "  Sen- 
nuccio  mio." 

V.  63.  The  birds.']  Hell,  Canto  V.  46  ;  Euripides,  Helena,  1495  ;  and 
Statins,  Theb.  1.  v.  12. 

V.  81.  He.]  Corso  Donati  was  suspected  of  aiming  at  the  sovereignty 
of  Florence.  To  escape  the  fury  of  his  fellow-citizens,  he  fled  away  on 
horseback,  but  falling,  was  overtaken  and  slain,  a.d.  1308.  The  con- 
temporary annalist,  after  relathig  at  length  the  circumstances  of  his 
fate,  adds,  "that  he  was  one  of  the  wisest  and  most  valorous  knights, 
the  best  speaker,  the  most  expert  statesman,  the  most  renowned  and 
enterprising  man  of  his  age  in  Italy,  a  comely  knight  and  of  graceful 
carriage,  but  very  worldly,  and  in  his  time  had  formed  many  conspira- 
cies in  Florence,  and  entered  into  many  scandalous  i)ractices,  for  the 
sake  of  attaining  state  and  lordship."  "  G.  Yillani,  1.  viii.  c.  96.  Tlie 
character  of  Corso  is  forcibly  drawn  by  anotlier  of  liis  contcmiioraries, 
Dino  Compagni,  1.  iii.,  Muratori,  Rer.  Ital.  Script,  t.  ix.  p.  523. 

V.  120.  Creatures  of  the  clouds.]  The  Centaurs.  Ovid,  Met.  1.  xii 
fab.  4. 

V.  123.  Tlie  Hebrews.]    Judges,  c.  vii. 


416  NOTES. 

CANTO  XXV. 

V.  58.  As  sca-sporif^e .']    The  fojtiis  in  in  this  stage  a  zoopyhte. 
V.  G6.  — More  loise, 

Than  thoxi,  has  erred.] 
Averroes  is  said  to  bo  here  iiioant.  Vciitnri  refers  to  liis  cominciitivry 
on  Aristotle,  De  Anini.  1.  iii.  c.  5.  for  the  ojiinion  that  there  is  only  one 
universal  intellect  or  niiiul  pervadinfj  every  individiKil  of  the  human 
race.  MiK'li  of  the  Iniowledge  disi^layed  by  our  Poet  in  the  present 
I  Canto  ai)pears  to  have  been  derived  from  the  medical  work  of  Averroes, 
(        called  the  Colli.i,'ct,  lib.  ii.  f.  10.     Yen.  1490.  fol. 

!  V.  7'J.  Mark  the  sun's  heat.]     Rodi  and  Tiraboschi  (Mr.  Mattliias's  ed. 

I  V.  ii.  p.  ."6.)  have  considered  this  an  anticipation  of  a  profound  discovery 
I  of  Galileo's  in  natural  ]>hilosoi)hy  ;  but  it  is  in  reality  taken  from  a 
I  passajio  in  Cicero  "de  Senectiitc,"  where,  speaking'  of  the  grajie,  lie 
E  BJiys,  "  qua%  ct  succo. terras  et  «tlore  solis  augesccns,  primo  est  pcra,- 
l  cerba  gu.statii,  delude  maturata  dulcescit." 
t  V.  123.  I  do  not  knoio  a  man.]    Luke,  c.  1.  34. 

V.  126.  C'allisto.]    See  Ovid,  Met.  1.  ii.  fab.  6. 

CANTO  XXVI. 

V.  70.  CcEsar.']  For  the  opprobrium  cast  on  Caisar's  efTemiuacy,  see 
Suetonius,  Julius  Caesar,  c.  49. 

V.  83.  GuinicellL]     See  Note  to  Canto  XI.  96. 

V.  87.  Lyciir</i(s.]  Statins,  Theb.  1.  iv.  and  v.  Hypsipile  had  left  her 
infant  diarize,  the  son  of  Lycurgus,  on  a  bank,  where  it  was  destroyed 
by  a  serpent,  when  she  went  to  show  the  Argive  army  the  river  of  Lnn- 
gia  :  and,  on  her  escaping  the  effects  of  Lycurgus's  resentment,  the  joy 
her  own  children  felt  at  the  sight  of  her  was  such  as  our  Poet  felt  on 
beholding  his  predecessor  Guinicelli. 

The  incidents  are  beautifully  described  in  Statins,  and  seem  to  have 
made  an  impression  on  Dante,  for  he  again  (Canto  XXII.  110.)  character- 
izes Hypsipile,  as  her — 

Wlio  show'd  Langia's  wave. 

V.  111.  He.]  The  united  testimony  of  Dante,  and  of  Petrarch,  in  his 
Triumph  of  Love,  c.  iv.  places  Arnault  Daniel  at  the  head  of  the  Pro- 
vencj-al  poets.  That  he  was  born  of  poor  but  noble  ])arents,  at  the  castle 
of  Ribeyrac  in  Perigord,  and  that  he  was  at  the  English  court,  is  the 
amount  of  Millot's  information  concerning  him  (t.  ii.  p.  479).  The  ac- 
count there  given  of  his  writings  is  not  much  more  satisfactory,  and  the 
criticism  on  them  must  go  for  little  better  than  nothing.  It  is  to  be  re- 
gretted that  we  have  not  an  opportunity  of  judging  for  ourselves  of  his 
''  love  ditties  and  his  tales  of  prose." 

Versi  d'amore  e  prose  di  roraanzi. 

Our  Poet  frequently  cities  him  in  the  work  De  Vulgari  Eloquentia. 
According  to  Crescimbeui,  (Delia  Volg.  Poes.  1.  1.  p.  7.  ed.  1698.)  ho  died 
in  1189. 

V.  113  Tlie  songster  of  Limor/es.]  Giraud  do  P)orneil,  of  Sideuil,  a 
castle  i'n  Limoges.  He  was  a  troubadour,  much  admired  and  caressed 
iu  his  day,  anil  appears  to  have  been  in  favour  with  the  mouarchs  ol 


4~- 


PUKGATOUY.  417 


Cnstile,  Leon,  Navarre,  and  Arrason.  He  is  quoted  by  Dante,  Dc  Viilg. 
Eloq.  and  many  of  liis  poems  are  still  remaining  in  MS.  According  to 
Nostradamus  lie  died  in  1278.  Jlillot,  Hist.  Litt.  des  Tronl).  t.  ii.  p.  1, 
and  2:!.  IJiit  I  suspect  that  there  is  some  error  in  this  date,  and  that  he 
did  not  live  to  see  so  late  a  period. 

V.  118.  Guittone.]     See  Canto  XXIV.  56. 

V.  123.  Far  as  needs.  ]     See  Canto  XI.  23. 

V.  132.  77)?/  courtesy.]  Arnault  is  here  made  to  speak  in  his  own 
tongue,  the  Proven(,'al.  According  to  Dante,  (De  Vulg.  Eloq.  1.  1.  c.  8.  ) 
the  Provencal  was  one  language  with  tlie  Spanisli.  What  he  says  on 
this  subject  is  so  curious,  that  the  reader  will  perhaps  not  be  displeased 
if  I  give  an  abstract  of  it. 

He  first  makes  three  great  divisions  of  the  European  languages. 
"One  of  these  extends  from  the  mouths  of  the  Daiuibe,  or  the  lake  of 
JLTOtis,  to  the  western  limits  of  England,  and  is  bounded  by  the  limits 
of  the  French  and  Italians,  and  by  the  ocean.  One  idiom  obtained  over 
the  whole  of  this  space  :  but  was  afterwards  subdivided  into  the  Scla- 
vonian,  Hungarian,  Teutonic,  Saxon,  English,  and  the  vernacular 
tongues  of  several  other  people,  one  sign  remaining  to  all,  that  they  use 
the  affirmative  io,  (our  English  oy.)  The  whole  of  Europe,  beginning 
from  the  Hungarian  limits  and  stretching  towards  the  east,  has  a  second 
idiom,  which  reaches  still  further  than  the  end  of  Europe,  into  Asia. 
This  is  the  Greek.  In  all  that  remains  of  Eurojie,  there  is  a  third  idiom, 
subdivided  into  three  dialects,  which  may  be  severally  distinguished  bj 
the  use  of  the  affirmatives,  oc,  oil,  and  si ;  the  first  s))oken  by  the  Span- 
iards, the  next  by  the  French,  and  the  third  by  the  Latins  (or  Italians) 
The  first  occupy  the  western  part  of  southern  Enro[)e,  beginning  from 
the  limits  of  the  Genoese.  The  third  occupy  the  eastern  ]iart  from  the 
said  limits,  as  far,  that  is,  as  the  promontory  of  Italy,  where  the  Adriatic 
sea  begins,  and  to  Sicily.  The  second  are  in  a  manner  northern  with 
respect  to  the«p.  for  they  liave  the  Germans  to  the  east  and  north,  on  the 
•west  they  are  bounded  by  the  English  sea  and  the  niountnius  of  Arra- 
gon,  and  on  the  south  by  the  people  of  Provence  and  the  declivity  of  the 
Apennine." 

Ibid.  c.  X.  "  Each  of  these  three,"  he  observes,  "has  its  own  claims  to 
distinction.     The  excellency  of  the  French  language  consists  in  its  being 
best  adapted,  on  account  of  its  facility  and  agreeableness,  to  prose  nar- 
ration, (quicquid  redactnm,  sive  inventum  est  ad  vulgare  prosaicnm, 
suum  est)  ;  and  he  instances  the  books  compiled  on  the  gests  of  the  Tro- 
jans and  Romans,  and  the  delightful  Adventures  of  King  Arthur,  with         ' 
many  other  histories  and  works  of  instruction.    The  Spanish  (or  Pro-        \ 
venral)  may  boast  of  its  having  produced  such  as  first  cultivated  in  this,        i 
as  in  a  moie  perfect  and  sweet  language,  the  vernacular  poetry  :  among        | 
whom  are  Pierre  d'Auvergne,  and  others  more  ancient.     The  i)rivileges        j 
of  the  Latin,  or  Italian,  are  two  ;  first,  that  it  may  reckon  for  its  own        ; 
those  writers  who  have  adopted  a  more  sweet  and  subtile  style  of  poetry,        f: 
in  the  number  of  whom  are  Cino  da  Pistoia  and  his  friend;  and  the 
next,  that  its  writers  seem"  to  adhere  to  certain  general  rules  of  gram- 
mar, and  in  so  doing  give  it,  in  the  opinion  of  the  jiitelligent,  a  very 
weighty  pretension  to  jnef erence. "  ,' 

27  I 


418  NOTES. 

CANTO  XXVII. 

V.  1.  TJie  sun.]  At  .Terasalem  it  was  dawn,  in  Spain  niidiiiglit,  and 
In  India  noondav,  wliile  it  was  sunset  in  I'lirgatory. 

V.  10.  Blessed'.]     Matt.  c.  v.  8. 

V.  57.  Vomc]    Matt.  c.  xxv.  ;?4. 

V.  102.  I  (tm  Leah.]  By  Leali  is  understood  tlie  active  life,  as  Uaeliel 
fij^iires  the  contemplative.  Tlie  divinity  is  the  mirror  in  which  the  latter 
looks.  Michel  An;ielo  lias  made  these  ancj;orical  i)ersona.i;es  the  subject 
of  two  statues  on  the  monument  of  Julius  II.  in  the  church  of  S.  Pietro 
in  Viucolo.  See  Mr.  Uuppa's  Life  of  Michel  Angelo,  Sculpture  viii.  and 
X.  and  1).  247. 

V.  135.  Those  bright  eyes.]    The  eyes  of  Beatrice. 

CANTO    XXVIII, 

V.  11.  To  that  part.]    Tlie  west. 

V,  14.  The  feathered  q^ciristers.]  Imitated  by  Boccaccio,  Fiammetta,  1. 
Iv.  "  Odi  1  queruli  uccelli,"  &c. — "Hear  the  querulous  birds  plaining 
with  sweet  songs,  and  the  boughs  trembling,  and,  moved  by  a  gentle 
wind,  as  it  were  keeping  tenor  to  their  notes." 

V.  7.  A  pleasant  air.]     Compare  Ariosto,  0.  F.  c.  xxxiv.  st.  50. 

V.  Chiassi.]  This  is  the  wood  where  the  scene  of  Boccaccio's  sublimost 
story  is  laid.  See  Dec.  g.  5.  u.  8.  and  Dryden's  Theodore  and  Honnria. 
Our  Poet  perhaps  wandered  in  it  during  his  abode  with  Guido  Novello 
da  Polenta. 

V.  41.  A  lady.]  Most  of  the  commentators  suppose,  that  by  this  lady, 
who  in  the  last  Canto  is  called  Jlatilda,  is  to  be  understood  the  Countess 
Matilda,  who  endowed  the  holy  see  witli  the  estates  called  the  P;itrir.iony 
of  St.  Peter,  and  died  in  1115.  See  G.  Villani,  1.  iv.  c.  20.  But  it  seems 
more  probable  that  she  should  be  intended  for  an  allegorical  personage. 

V.  80.   Thou,  Lord  !  hast  made  me  f/lad.]    Psalm  xcii.  4. 

V.  146.  On  the  Parnassian  tnou7itain.] 

"a  bicipitl  somuiasse  Paruasso. 

Persius,  Prol. 

CANTO  XXIX. 

V.  76.  Listed  colours.] 

Di  sette  liste  tutte  iu  quel  colori,  &c. 

— a  bow 
Conspicuous  with  three  listed  colours  gay. 

Milton,  P.  L.  b.  xi.  865. 
V.  79.  Ten  paces.]  For  an  explanation  of  the  allegorical  meaning  of 
this  mysterious  procession,  Venturi  refers  those  "  who  would  see  in  the 
dark  "  to  the  conimentaries  of  Landino,  Vellutello,  and  others :  and  adds, 
that  it  is  evident  the  Poet  has  accommodated  to  his  own  fancy  many 
sacred  images  in  the  Apocalypse.  In  Vasari's  Life  of  Giotto,  we  learn 
that  Dante  recommended  that  book  to  his  friend,  as  affording  fit  snbjecta 
for  his  pencil. 


PUKGATUKY.  41  y 

V.  89.  Fo^n-.]    The  four  evangelists. 

V.  !H).  Ezclid.']    Cliap.  i.  4. 

V.  101.  Jo/ui.]     Rev.  c.  iv.  8. 

V.  lOi.  Gri/pJum.]  Under  tlie  gryplion,  an  imaginary  crentiiri',  the 
forei)art  of  whicli  is  an  eagle,  and  the  hinder  a  lion,  is  shadowed  I'ortli 
the  union  of  the  divine  and  human  nature  in  Jesus  Clirist.  The  car  is  tlio 
church. 

V.  115.  Telhis'  prayer.]     Ovid,  Met.  1.  ii.  v.  279. 

V.116.  Three  nymxihs.l  Tlie  three  evangelical  virtues:  the  fust 
Charity,  the  next  Hope,  and  tlie  third  Faith.  Faith  may  be  produced  i>y 
charity,  or  charity  liy  faith,  but  the  inducements  to  hope  must  arise 
either  from  one  or  otlier  of  these 

V.  rif).  A  band  quaternioji.']  The  four  moral  or  cardinal  virtues,  of 
whom  Prudence  directs  tlie  others. 

V.  129.  Two  old  men.']  Saint  Luke,  characterized  as  the  writer  of  the 
Acts  of  the  Apostles,  and  Saint  Paul. 

V.  133.  Of  the  f/rcat  Coan.]  Hippocrates,  "  whom  nature  made  for  the 
benefit  of  her  favourite  creature,  man." 

V.  138.  Four  others.]  "The  commentators,"  says  Venturi-  "suppose 
these  four  to  be  tlie  four  evangelists;  but  I  should  rather  take  tliem  to 
be  four  principal  doctors  of  tlie  church."  Yet  both  Landino  iind  Vellu- 
tello  expressly  call  them  the  authors  of  the  epistles,  James,  Peter,  John, 
and  Jude. 

v.  140.  One  single  old  man.]  As  some  say,  St.  John,  under  his  charac- 
ter of  the  autlior  of  the  Apocalyi)se.  But  in  the  poem  attributed  to 
Giacopo,  the  son  of  our  Poet,  which  in  some  MSS.  accompanies  the  origi- 
nal of  this  work,  and  is  descriptive  of  its  plan,  this  old  man  is  said  to  be 
Moses. 

E'l  vecchio,  ch'  era  dietro  a  tutti  loro, 
Fu  Moyse. 

And  the  old  man,  who  was  behind  them  all, 
Was  Moses. 
See  No.  3459  of  the  Harl.  MSS.  in  the  British  Museum. 

CANTO  XXX. 

V.  1.  TJie  polar  lif/ht.]    The  seven  candlesticks. 

V.  12.  Come.]    Song  of  Solomon,  c.  iv.  8. 

V.  19.  Blessed.]    Matt.  c.  xxi.  9. 

V.  20.  From  full  hands.]     Virg.  JEn.  1.  vi.  884. 

V.  47.  The  old  flame.] 

Aguosco  veteris  vestigia  flammse. 

Virg.  ^n.  1.  iv.  23. 
Conosco  1  segni  dell'  antico  fuoco. 

Giusto  de'  Conti,  La  Bella  Mano. 
V.  51.  Nor,]     "Not  all  the  beauties  of  the  terrestrial  Paradise;  in 
which  I  was,  were  sufficient  to  alhiy  my  grief." 

v.  85.  Bid.]    They  sang  the  tliirty -first  Psalm,  to  the  end  of  the  eighth 
verse. 
V.  87.  The  living  rafters.]    The  leafless  woods  on  the  Aiieuniue. 
V.  90.   The  land  ichcrcon  no  shadoio  falls.]     "  When  tlio  wind  blow.s 
from  off  Africa,  where,  at  the  time  of  the  eipiiuox,  bodies  being  under 


420  NOTES. 

tlic  cquiitor  cast  little  or  no  sliadow ;  or,  in  other  words,  Avhcn  the  wind 
is  sdiitli." 

V.  98.  The  ice-']  Milton  has  transferred  this  conceit,  thoufi:h  scarcely 
worth  the  pains  of  removing,  into  one  of  his  Italian  poonis,  son.  v. 

CANTO  XXXI. 

V.  3.  With  lateral  edf/e.]  The  words  of  Beatrice,  when  not  addressed 
directly  to  hini.self,  but  speaking  to  the  angel  of  him,  Dante  had  tlioiight 
Biifflcioiitly  harsh. 

V.    30.  Counter  to  the  edr/e.]     "  The   weapons  of  di\  ino  jii.-<tice  are  \ 

blunted  by  the  confession  and  sorrow  of  the  offender."  1 

V.  68.  J}ird.]    Prov.  c.  i.  17. 

V.  69.  From  larhas' land.']    The  south.  ? 

V.  71.  The  heard.']     "  I  perceived,  that  when  she  desired  me  to  raise  \ 

my  beard,  instead  of  telling  me  to  lift  up  my  head,  a  severe  rcllcction  5 

was  implied  on  my  want  of  that  wisdom  which  should  accompany  the  | 

age  of  manhood.''  \ 

V.  98.   Tu  asi)erges  me.]    A  prayer  repeated  by  the  priest  at  sprinkling  |i 

the  holy  water.  S 

V.  106.  And  in  the  heaven  are  stars.]    See  Canto  I.  24.  | 

v»  116.  I'he  emeralds.]    The  eyes  of  Beatrice.  | 


CANTO  XXXII. 

i  i 

t  V.  2.  Tlieir  ten  years'  thirst.]     Beatrice  had  been  dead  ten  years.  \ 

I  V.  9.  Too  fix'd  a  gaze.]     The  allegorical  interpretation  of  Vellutello,  ! 

I        whether  it  be  considered  as  justly  inferrible  from  tlie  text  or  not,  con-  - 

j       veys  so  useful  a  lesson,  that  it  deserves  our  notice.   "  The  undeistandiug  ■ 

i        is  sometimes  so  intently  engaged  in  contemplating  the  light  of  divine  ^ 

truth  in  the  scriptures,  that  it  becomes  dazzled,  and  is  made  less  capable  r 
of  attaining  such  knowledge,  than  if  it  had  sought  after  it  with  greater 

moderation.''  j 

V.  39.  Its  tres.ses.]    Daniel,  c.  iv.  10,  &c.  j 

V.  41.  The  Indians.]  i 

Quos  oceano  proprior  gerit  India  lucos.  5 

Virg.  Georg.  1.  ii.  122.  \ 

Such  as  at  this  day  to  Indians  known.  | 

Milton,  P.  L.  b.  ix.  1102.  j 

V.  51.  When  large  floods  of  radiaiice.]  When  the  sun  enters  into  Aries, 
the  constellation  next  to  that  of  the  Fish. 

V.63.    Th' impitying  eyes .]     See  Ovid,  Met.  1.  i.  689. 

V.  74.  The  blossoming  of  that  fair  tree.]  Our  Saviour's  transfigura- 
tion. 

V.  97.  Those  lights.]    The  tapers  of  gold. 

V.  101.    That  true  Rome.]     Heaven. 

v.llO.  The  bird  of  Jove .]  This,  which  is  imitated  from  Ezekiel,  c. 
xvii.  3,  4.  appears  to  be  typical  of  the  persecutions  which  the  church 
Bustained  from  the  Roman  Emperors. 

V.  118.  A  fox.]  By  the  fox  perhaps  is  represented  the  treachery  of  the 
heretics . 


PURGATORY.  421 

V.124.  WitJi  hix  feathers  lin'd.l  In  allusion  to  the  donations  m.-ulo 
by  the  Rninan  Emperors  to  tlie  chiireh. 

\.  l.'JO.  A  dnu/Dii.]     Probably  Mahomet. 

V.  13().    With  pi  (lines.]     The  donations  before  mentioned. 

V.  142.  Ilecats.]  15y  t'ue  seven  lieads,  it  is  siii)posed  with  sufficient 
probability,  are  meant  the  seven  capital  sins;  by  tlie  tliree  witli  two 
horns,  ]iride,  anjier,  and  avarice,  injurions  botli  to  man  liimself  and  to 
his  neii^hbor :  by  the  fonr  with  one  liorn,  gluttony,  liikewarmness,  con- 
cupi.^cence,  and  envy,  hurtful,  at  least  in  their  primary  effects,  chiefly  to 
liim  who  is  jjuilty  of  them. 

V.  146.  O'er  it.]  The  harlot  is  thou?;ht  to  represent  tlie  state  of  the 
church  under  Boniface  VIll.  and  the  ijinnt  to  figure  Pliilip  IV.  of  France. 

V.  155.  Drcif/f/'d  on.]  The  removal  of  the  Pope's  residence  from  Kome 
to  Avignon  is  pointed  at. 


CANTO  xxxm. 


▼.  1.  The  Heathen.     Psalm  Ixxix.  1. 

V.  36.  Hope  not  to  scare  God's  venr/eance  icith  a  sop."]  "  Let  not  him 
who  hath  occasioned  the  destruction  of  the  church,  that  vessel  which  the 
serjient  brake,  hope  to  appease  the  anger  of  the  Deity  by  any  outward 
acts  of  religious,  or  rather  superstitious,  ceremony,  such  as  was  that,  in 
our  [loet's  time,  performed  by  a  murderer  at  Florence,  who  inuigined 
himself  secure  from  vengeance,  if  he  ate  a  sop  of  bread  in  wine,  upon 
the  grave  of  the  person  murdered,  within  the  space  of  nine  days." 

v.  38.  That  eagle.]  He  prognosticates  that  the  Kmperor  of  Germany 
will  not  always  continue  to  submit  to  the  usurpations  of  the  Po|)e,  and 
foretells  the  coming  of  Henry  VII.  Duke  of  Luxemburg,  signified  by  the 
numerical  figures  DVX;  or,  as  Lombard!  supposes,  of  Can  Grande  della 
Scala,  appointed  the  leader  of  the  Ghibelline  forces.  It  is  unnecessary 
to  iioint  out  the  imitation  of  the  Apocalypse  in  the  maimer  of  this 
prophecy. 

V.  50."  The  Naiads."]  Dante,  it  is  observed,  has  been  led  into  a  mistake 
by  a  corruption  in  the  text  of  Ovid's  Metam .  1 .  vii .  757 .  where  he  found — 

Carmina  Naiades  non  intellecta  priorum ; 

instead  of  Carmina  Laiades,  &c.  as  it  has  been  since  corrected. 

Lombardi  refers  to  Pausanias,  where  "the  Nymphs  "  are  spoken  of 
as  expounders  of  oracles,  for  a  vindication  of  the  poet's  accuracy. 

Should  the  reader  blame  me  for  not  departing  from  the  error  of  the 
original  (if  error  it  be),  he  may  substitute 

Events  shall  be  the  CEdipus  will  solve,  &c. 

V.  67.  Elsa's  nvmbing  icatersi]  The  Elsa,  a  little  stream,  which  flows 
into  tlie  Arno  about  twenty  miles  below  Florence,  is  said  to  possess  a 
petrifying  quality. 

v.'/s.  Tluit  one  brings  home  his  staff"  inwrenih'd  iLu'th  palm.]  "For 
the  same  cause  that  the  pilgrim,  returning  from  Palestine,  brings  home 
his  staff,  or  bourdon,  bound  with  palm,"  that  is,  to  show  where  he  has 
been. 

Che  si  reca  '1  bordon  di  palma  cinto. 


422  NOTES. 

"  In  retrard  to  tlio  word  bmmlnn,  why  it  lias  boon  niiiilied  to  a  piljjrim's 
staff,  it  {"s  not  easy  to  f;n»'SH.  I  believe,  howevfr,  that  this  iianie  has 
bcoM'f;iven  to  sudi  Sdit  of  staves,  bei'aiisc  iiii.i;rinis  usually  travel  and 
perfurni  their  iiil^rima^ies  <jn  foot,  their  staves  serving  them  instead  of 
liorses  or  innles,  then  called  hmmloriR  and  biirdoncs,  by  writers  in  tlio 
niicidie  ages."  Mr.  .lohnes's  Translation  of  Joinville's  Memoirs.  Disser- 
tation xv''.  bv  M  .  du  ('ange,  p.  15'2.  4to.  edit. 

The  word'^is  thrice  used  by  Chaucer  in  the  Uomauut  of  the  Rose. 


t>j^:eij^idx&:e:. 


CANTO  I. 

Verse  12.  Bfmr/n  Apollo.]  CnAurER  lias  imitated  this  invocation  very 
closely  at  the  beginning  of  the  Third  Booke  of  Fame. 

If,  divine  vertne,  thou 
Wilt  helpe  me  to  shewe  now 
Tliat  in  my  head  ymaiked  is, 

Thou  shalt  see  me  go  as  blive 
Unto  the  next  laiirer  I  see, 
And  kisse  it,  for  it  is  thy  tree. 
Now  eutre  tliou  my  breast  anone. 

V.  15.  77ms /a?".]  He  appears  to  mean  nothing  more  than  that  this  part 
of  his  poem  will  require  a  greater  exertion  of  his  powers  than  the 
former. 

V.  19.  Marsi/as.']  Ovid,  Met.  1.  vi.  fab.  7.  Compare  Boccaccio,  II  Filo- 
copo,  1.  5.  p.  25.  V.  ii.  Ediz.  Fir.  1723.  "  Egli  nel  niio  potto  entri,"  &c. — 
"  May  he  enter  my  bosom,  and  let  my  voice  sound  like  his  own,  when 
he  made  that  daring  mortal  deserve  to  come  forth  unsheathed  from  his 
limbs." 

V.  29.  Cmsar,  or  bard.']    So  Petrarch,  Son.  Par.  Prima. 

Arbor  vittoriosa  e  trionfale, 
Onor  d'imperadori  e  di  poeti. 

And  Spenser,  F.  Q.  b.  i.  c.  1.  st.  9. 

The  laurel,  meed  of  mighty  conquerours 
And  poets  sage. 

V.  37.  Through  that.]  "  Where  the  four  circles,  the  horizon,  the  zodiac, 
the  equator,  and  the  equinoctial  colure,  join;  the  la.st  three  intersecting 
each  other  so  as  to  form  three  crosses,  as  may  be  seen  in  the  armillary 
sphere." 

v.  39.  In  hapjnest  covstellation.]  Aries.  Some  understand  the  planet 
Venus  by  the  "  miglior  stella." 

v.  44.  To  the  left.]  Being  in  the  opj)osite  hemisphere  to  ours,  Beatrice, 
that  she  may  behold  the  rising  sun,  turns  herself  to  the  left. 

v.  47.  As  from  the  first  a  second  beam.]  "  Like  a  reflected  sunbeam," 
which  he  compares  to  a  pilgrim  hastening  homewards. 

423 


424  NOTKR. 

Nc  simil  tiiiito  inai  mggio  Bccondo 
Dill  priino  usci. 

Filicaja,  canz.  15.  st.  4. 

V.  68.  As  iron  that  comes  boiling  from  thefire.^    So  Milton,  P.  L.  b.  iii. 

As  glowing  iron  with  fire.  \ 

V.  69.  Upon  the  day  appcar'cL]  1 

If  the  lieaven  had  ywonne,  ; 

All  new  of  God  anotlier  siinne.  ; 

Chaucer,  First  Booke  of  Fame. 
E  par  ch'  aggiunga  un  altro  sole  al  cielo. 

Ariosto,  O.  F.  c.  x.  st.  109. 
Ed  ecco  un  lustre  lampeggiar  d'  intoino 
Che  sole  a  sole  aggiunse  e  giorno  a  gionio. 

Marino,  Adone.  c.  xi.  st.  27. 

Quando  a  paro  col  sol  ma  piu  lucente 
L'angelo  gli  appari  sull'  orieute. 

Tasso,  0.  L.  c.  i. 

Seems  another  morn 

Ris'n  on  mid-noon. 

Milton,  P.  L.  b.  v.  311. 

Compare  Euripides,  Ion.  1550.    'KvOriXiov  -rrpoawTrov. 
V.  66.  As  Glavcus.]    Ovid,  Met.  1.  xiii.  fab.  9. 

V.  71.  If.]     "Thou,  0  divine  Spirit,  knowest  whether  I  had  not  risen 
above  my  human  uature,  and  were  not  merely  such  as  thou  hadst  then 
formed  me." 
V.  125.  Through  sluggishness.] 

Perch'  a  risponder  la  materia  h  sorda. 
So  Filicaja,  cauz.  vi.  st.  9. 
Perche  a  risponder  la  discordia  fe  sorda 
"The  workman  hath  in  his  heart  a  purpose,  he  carrieth  in  mind  the 
whole  form  which  his  work  should  have;  there  wan teth  not  liim  skill 
and  desire  to  bring  his  labour  to  the  best  effect;  only  the  matter,  which 
he  hath  to  work  on,  is  uuframeable."    Hooker's  Eccl.  Polity,  b.  5.  §  9. 


CANTO  II. 

V.  1.  In  small  bai'k.] 

Con  la  barchetta  mia  cantando  in  rima. 

Pulci,  Morg.  Magg.  c.  xxviii. 
lo  me  n'andro  con  la  barchetta  mia, 
Quauto  I'acqua  comporta  un  picciol  legno. 

Ibid. 
V.  30.  This  first  star.]    The  moon. 

T.  46.  E'en  as  the  trtdh.]     "  Like  a  truth  that  does  not  need  demon- 
Btration,  but  is  self-evident." 
V.  52.  Cain.]    Compare  Hell,  Canto  XX.  123.  and  Note. 
V.  65.  Nmnberless  lights.]    The  fixed  stars,  which  differ  both  in  bulk 
and  .splendor. 


rARADI55B.  425 

V.  71.  Save  one.']  "Except  tli.it  principle  of  rarity  and  dtiisoiiPss 
which  thou  hast  assigned.''  Hy  "formal  principles," pj'incf/y /o?v?i((^/, 
are  meant  constituent  or  essential  causes." 

Milton,  in  imitation  of  this  passage,  introduces  the  angel  arguing  witli 
Adam  respecting  the  causes  of  the  spots  on  the  moon.  IJiit,  as  a  Into 
French  translator  of  the  Paradise  well  remarks,  his  reasoning  is  physical; 
that  of  Dante  partly  metai)hysical  and  partly  tlieologic. 

V.  111.  Within  the  heaven.']  According  to  our  Poet's  system,  there  aro 
ten  lieavens;  the  seven  planets,  the  eighth  sphere  contivining  the  fixed 
stars,  the  2'i' inium  mobile,  and  the  empyrean. 

V.  143.  The  virtue  mingled.]    Viig.  .Mn.  1.  vi.  724. 
Principio  ccelum,  &c 


CANTO   III. 

V.  16.  Dehision.]  "An  error  the  contrary  to  that  of  Narcissus,  he- 
cause  lie  mistook  a  shadow  for  a  substance,  I  a  substance  for  a  shadow." 

V.  50.  Piccarda.]  The  sister  of  Forese  whom  we  have  seen  in  the  Pur- 
gatory, Canto  XXIir.  ] 

V.  99.  The  Lad)/.]  St.  Clare,  the  foundress  of  the  order  called  after 
her.  She  was  born  of  opulent  and  noble  parents  at  Assisi,  in  1193,  and 
died  in  1253.     See  Biogr.  Univ.  t.  1.  p.  598.  8vo.  Paris,  1813. 

V.  121.   Con.<itancc.]     Daughter  of  Ruggieri,  king  of  Sicily,  who,  being  ■ 

taken  by  force  out  of  a  monaster}'  where  she  liad  professed,  was  mari'ied  | 

to  the  Emperor  Henry  VI.  and  by  him  was  mother  to  Frederick  II.     She  1 

was  fifty  years  old  or  more  at  the  time,  and  "  because  it  was  not  credited  ] 

that  she  could  have  a  child  at  that  age,  she  was  delivered  in  a  pavilion,  { 

and  it  was  given  out,  that  any  lady,  who  pleased,  was  at  liberty  to  see  j 

her.    Many  came,  and  saw  her;  and  the  s^ispicion  ceased."     Ricordauo  ] 

Malaspiua  in  Muraiori,  Rer.  It.  Script,  t.  viii.  p.  939;  and  G.  Villani,  in  j 

the  same  words,  Hist.  1.  v.  c.  10.  I 

The  French  translator  above  mentioned  speaks  of  her  having  poisoned  ) 

her  husband.     The  death   of   Henry  VI.    is  recorded  in  the  Chronicon  | 

Sicili;p,  by  an  anonymous  writer,  (Muratori,  t.  x.)  but  not  a  word  of  his  i 

having  been  jioisoned  by  Constance;    and  Ricordauo  IMalasjiina  even  | 

mentions  her  decease  as  happening  before  that  of  her  husband,  Henry  i 

\^.,  for  so  this  author,  with  some  others,  terms  him.  i 

V.  122.   The  second.]    Henry  VI.  son  of  Frederick  I.  was  the  second  \ 

emperor  of  the  house  of  Suabia;  and  his  sou  Frederick  II.  "  the  third  and  ' 

last"  I 

CANTO  IV. 

T.  6.  Between  two  deer.] 

Tigris  ut,  anditis,  diversa  valle  duorum, 
Extimulata  fame,  mugitibusarmentorum, 
Nescit  utro  potius  ruat,  et  mere  ardet  utroque. 

Ovid,  Metam.  1.  v.  166.  [ 

V.  13.  Daniel.]     See  Daniel,  c.  ii.  '■ 

V.  24.   Plato.]     Suo-T^cra?  «e,  K.  T.  A.  Plato.   Tima^us  v.   ix.  p.   326.   Edit.       ; 
Bip.     "  The  Creat<n-,  when  he  had  fi'amcd  tlie  universe,  distributed  to  the 
stars  an  equal  nnmbor  of  souls,  appointing  to  each  soul  its  several  st;ir." 


42()  NOTKS, 

V.  27.   0/that.]    Plato's  opinion. 
V.  'M.   The  first  circle]    The  cnii)yrean. 
V.  48.  —  IJim  rvho  made 

Tobias  whole.'] 
Raphael,  the  socialjlc  spirit,  that  deign'd 
To  ti'avel  willi  Tol)ias,  and  secnv'd 
His  niarriago  with  the  sev'n  times  wedded  maid. 

Milton,  P.  L.  h.  V.  223. 

V.  67.  TJiat  to  the  eye  ofma7i.]  "  That  the  ways  of  divine  justice  are 
often  inscrntal3le  to  man,  ought  rather  to  be  a  motive  to  faith  tlian  an  in- 
duceniont  to  heresy."  Such  appears  to  me  the  most  satisfactory  exi)la- 
iiation  of  the  passage. 

V.  82.  Laurence.]    Who  suffered  martyrdom  in  the  third  century. 

V.  82.  ^c(erola.]     See  Liv.  Hist.  D.  1.  1.  ii.  12. 

V.  100.  Alcmoion.]     Ovid,  IMet.  1.  ix.  f.  10. 

— Ultusquc  parcnte  parentem 
Natus,  erit  facto  pius  et  sceleratus  eodem, 

V.  107.  O/ivill]  "What  Piccarda  asserts  of  Constance,  tliat  she  re- 
tained her  affection  to  the  monastic  life,  is  said  absolutely  and  without 
relation  to  circiunstances;  and  that  which  I  afiirni  is  spoken  of  the  will 
conditionally  and  respectively:  so  that  our  apijarent  difference  is  witlioiit 
any  disagreement." 

V.  119.  That  truth.]    The  light  of  divine  truth. 

CANTO  V. 

V.  43.  Tivo  things.]  The  one,  the  substance  of  the  vow;  the  other,  the 
compact,  or  form  of  it. 

V.  48.  It  iras  enjoin'd  the  Israelites.]     See  Lev.  c.  xii,  and  xxvii. 

V.  5(!.  Either  key.]     Purgatory,  Canto  IX.  108. 

V.  80.  Tliat  region.]  As  some  explain  it,  the  east;  according  to  otlici's, 
the  equinoctial  line. 

V.  124.  This  sphere.]  The  planet  Mercury,  which,  being  nearest  to  tlic 
Buu,  is  oftenest  hidden  by  that  luminary. 

CANTO   VI. 

V.  1.  After  that  Constantine  the  eagle  tiirn'd.]  Constantine,  in  trans- 
ferring the  scat  of  empire  from  Rome  to  Byzantium,  carried  the  eagle, 
the  Imperial  ensign,  from  the  west  to  the  east,  .^neas,  on  the  contiai'v, 
had  moved  along  with  the  sun's  course,  when  he  passed  from  Trov  to 
Italy. 

V.  5.  A  hvndred  years  twice  told  and  more.]  The  Emperor  Constantine 
entered  Byzantium  in  324;  and  Justinian  began  his  reign  in  527. 

V.  6.  At  El!)  ape's  extreme  point.]  Constantinople  being  situated  at  the 
extreme  of  Europe,  and  on  the  borders  of  Asia,  near  those  mountains  in 
the  neighbourhood  of  Troy,  from  wlience  tlie  first  founders  of  Rome  had 
emigrated. 

V.  13.  To  clear  th'  inciimher\l  hnos.]  The  code  of  laws  was  abridged 
and  reformed  by  Justinian. 


PARADISE.  427 

V.  IT).  ChrixVanafvrr  mrrrb/ human.]  Justinian  is  said  to  havo  boon 
a  follower  of  the  heretical  opinions  held  by  Eutyches,  "  who  tanght  that 
in  Christ  there  was  but  one  nature,  viz.  that  of  the  incarnate  word." 
Maclaine's  Mosheini,  t.  ii.  Cent.  v.  ]).  ii.  c.  v.  §  13.   ' 

V.  IG.  A(/np(;te.]  "  Agapetus,  Bishop  of  Rome,  whose  Schcda  Uegia, 
addressed  to  tlio  Emperor  Justinian,  i)rocured  him  a  phice  among  the 
-wisest  and  most  judicious  writers  of  this  century."  Ibid.  Cent.  vi.  p.  ii. 
c.  ii.  §  8. 

V.  33.   Who  pretend  it!^  poiocr.]    The  Ghibellines. 

V.  33.  And  who  oppose.]    Tlie  Guelphs. 

V.  34.  rallas  died.  ]     See  Virgil,  M\\.  1.  x. 

V.  39.  Tlie  rival  three.]     The  Horatii  and  Curiatii. 

V.  41.  Doion.]  "From  the  rape  of  the  Sabine  women  to  the  violation 
of  Lucrctia." 

V.  47.  Quintias.]     Quintius  Cincinnatus. 

E  Cincinnato  dall'  incnlta  chioma. 

Petrarca- 

V.  50.  Ai-ab  hordes.]  The  Arabians  seem  to  be  put  for  the  barbarians 
in  general. 

V.  54.  That  hill.]  The  city  of  Fesulte,  which  was  sacked  by  the 
Romans  after  the  defeat  of  Cataline. 

V.  56.  Near  the  hour.]    Near  the  time  of  our  Saviour's  birth. 

V.  59.  What  then  it  ivroii/jht.]  In  the  following  fifteen  lines  the  Poet 
has  comprised  the  exploits  of  Julius  Cit'sar. 

V.  75.  1)1  its  next  hearer's  gripe.]    With  Augustus  C;T?sar. 

V.  89.  TJie  third  Coisar.]  "  Tiberius,  the  tliird  of  the  Caesars,  had  it 
in  his  power  to  surpass  the  glory  of  all  who  either  preceded  or  came  after 
hira,  by  destroying  the  city  of  Jerusalem,  as  Titus  afterwards  did,  and 
thus  revenging  tlie  cause  of  God  himself  on  the  Jews." 

V.  95.  Vengeance  for  vengeance.]  This  will  be  afterwards  explained 
by  the  Poet  himself. 

V.  98.  Charlemagne.]  Dante  could  not  be  ignorant  that  the  reign  o\ 
Justinian  was  long  prior  to  that  of  Charlemagne;  but  the  spirit  of  the 
former  emperor  isre[n'esented,  both  in  this  instance  and  in  what  follows, 
as  conscious  of  the  events  that  had  taken  jilace  after  his  own  time. 

V.  104.  The  yellow  lilvs.]    The  French  ensign. 

V.  110.  Charles.]  The  commentators  explain  this  to  mean  Charles  II. 
king  of  Naples  and  Sicily.  Is  it  not  more  likely  to  allude  to  Cliailes  of 
Valois,  son  of  Philip  HI.  of  France,  who  was  sent  for,  about  this  time. 
into  Italy  l)y  Pope  Boniface,  with  the  promise  of  being  made  cmi)eror  ? 
See  G.  Villaui,  1.  viii.  c.  42. 

V.  131.  Romeo's  light.]  The  story  of  Romeo  is  involved  in  some  un- 
certainty. The  French  writers  assert  the  continuance  of  his  ministeiial 
office  even  after  the  decease  of  his  sovereign,  Raymond  Berenger,  count 
of  Provence:  and  they  rest  this  assertion  chiefly  on  the  fact  of  a  certain 
Romieu  de  Villeneuve,  who  was  the  contemporary  of  that  prince,  having 
left  large  possessions  behind  him,  as  ajipears  by  his  will  preserved  in  tl.e 
archives  of  the  bishopric  of  Venice.  There  might,  however,  have  been 
more  than  one  person  of  the  name  of  Romieu,  or  Romeo,  which  answers 
to  that  of  Palmer  in  our  language.  Nor  is  it  jirobable  that  the  Italians, 
who  lived  so  near  the  time,  were  mi.sinformed  in  an  occurrence  of  such 
notoriety.  According  to  them,  after  he  had  long  been  a  faithful  steward 
to  Raymond,  when  an  account  was  reqtured  fnjm  him  of  the  revenues 
which  he  had  carr.fully  husbanded,  and  his  master  as  lavishly  disbursed. 


428  NOTES. 

"  lie  (leniaiulcd  the  little  mnle,  tlic  staff,  and  the  scrip,  with  wliicli  lie 
had  first  entered  into  tlio  count's  service,  Ji  stranj^er  pilgrim  from  the 
shrine  of  St.  .lames  in  Galicia,  and  paited  as  he  came;  nor  was  it  ever 
known  whence  lie  was,  or  whither  he  went."     G.  Villani,  1.  vi.  c.  !I2. 

V,  i;>5.  Fuiird(iii(/h(L'rs.]     Of  the  four  daiiLiliters  f)f  Raymond  Beren- 
gcr,  Margaret,  the  eldest,  was  marrieil  to  Louis  IX.  of  France;  Eleanor, 
tlienext,  to  Henry  111.  of  England;  Saiiclia,  the  third,  to  Richard,  Henry's        c 
brother,  and  King  of  the  Romans;  and  the  youngest,  Beatrice,  to  Charles        ■i 
I.  King  of  Naples  and  Sicily,  and  brotlier  to  Louis.  I 

V.  13().  liaymond  Bcreiii/cr.]  This  prince,  the  last  of  the  house  of  I 
Barcelona,  who  was  Count  of  Provence,  died  in  1245.  He  is  in  the  list  i 
oi  Provencal  poets.    See  Millot,  Hist.  Litt.  des  Troubadours,  t.  ii.  p.  112.        \ 


CANTO  VIL 

V.  3.  Malahoih.]     A  Hebrew  word,  signifying  "  kingdoms." 
V.  4.   That  substance  hright.']     Justinian. 

V.  17.  As  might  haw  made  one  blest  amid  the  flames.]  So  Ginsto  de' 
Conti,  Bella  Mauo.     "  Qual  salamandra." 

Che  puommi  nelle  fiamnii  far  beato. 
V.  23.  TJiai  man,  loho  was  unborn.']    Adam. 

V.  61.  What  distils.]  "That,  which  proceeds  iminediately  from  God, 
and  without  the  intervention  of  secondary  causes,  is  immortal.'' 

V.  140.  Our  resurrection  ceiiain.]  Venturi  aiii)ears  to  mistake  the 
Poet's  reasoning,  when  he  observes  :  "Wretched  for  ns,  if  we  had  not 
arguments  more  convincing,  and  of  a  higher  kind,  to  assure  ns  of  the 
truth  of  our  resurrection."  It  is  here  intended,  I  think,  that  the  wliolo 
of  God's  dispensations  to  man  should  be  considered  as  a  jiroof  of  our 
resurrection.  The  conclusion  is,  that  as  before  sin  man  was  immortal, 
so,  being  restored  to  the  favour  of  heaven  by  the  expiation  made  for  sin, 
he  necessarily  recovers  his  claim  to  immortality. 

There  is  much  in  this  poem  to  justify  the  encomium  which  the  learned 
Salvini  has  passed  on  it,  when,  in  an  epistle  to  Redi.  imitating  what 
Horace  had  said  of  Homer,  that  the  duties  of  life  might  be  better  learnt 
from  the  Grecian  bard,  than  from  the  teachers  oi'  the  porch  or  the 
academy,  he  says — 

And  dos>t  thou  ask,  what  themes  my  mind  engage  ? 
The  lonely  hours  I  give  to  Dante's  page  ; 
And  meet  more  sacred  learning  in  his  lines. 
Than  I  had  gain'd  from  all  the  school  divines. 
Se  volete  saper  la  vita  mia, 
Studiando  io  sto  lungi  da  tutti  gli  uomini  ; 
Ed  ho  imparato  piii  teologia 
In  questi  giorni,  che  ho  riletto  Dante, 
Che  nelle  scuole  fatto  io  non  avria. 

CANTO  vin. 

V.  4.  Epicycle.]  "In  snl  dosso  di  questo  cerchio,"  &c.  Convito  di 
Dante,  Opere,  t.  i.  p.  48.  ed.  Yen.  1793.  "Upon  the  back  of  this  circle, 
in  the  heaven  of  Venus,  whereof  we  are  now  treating,  is  a  little  sphere, 
which  has  in  that  heaven  a  revolution  of  its  own  :  whose  circle  the 
astronomers  term  ejiicycle." 

V.  11.  2'o  sit  in  Didu's  bosom.]    Virgil,  JKn.  1.  i.  718. 


+ 


I'AKADISE.  429 

V.  40.  '  0  ye  wlwse  intellectual  ministry.'] 

Voi  ch'  iuteiidendo  il  terzo  ciel  movete. 

The  first  line  in  our  Poet's  first  Ciinzoiie.     See  liis  Convito,  Ibid.  p.  40. 

V.  53.  Had  the  time  been  more.\     Tlie  spirit  now  siieakins  is  Cliarles 

Martel,  crowned  Icin.y;  cvf  Hungary,  and  son  of  Cliarles  II.  kin<;  of  Na|)les 

and  Sicily,  to  which  doniiniuus,  dying  in  his  fatlier's  lifetime,  lie  did  not 

sncceed. 

V.  57.  Tlwu  lov'dst  me  well.']  Charles  Martel  might  have  been  known 
to  onr  i)oet  at  Florence,  ■whither  he  came  to  meet  his  fatlier  in  1295,  the 
year  of  his  death.  The  retinae  and  the  habiliments  of  tlie  yonng  mon- 
arch are  minutely  described  by  G.  Villani,  who  adds,  that  "  he  remained 
more  than  twenty  days  in  Florence,  waiting  for  his  father  King  Charles 
and  his  brothers  ;  during  which  time  great  honour  was  done  him  by  the 
Florentines,  and  he  showed  no  less  love  towards  them,  and  he  was  much 
in  favour  with  all."  1.  viii.  c.  13.  His  brother  Robert,  king  of  Naples, 
was  the  friend  of  Petrarch. 
V.  00.  The  left  bank.]  Provence. 
V.  G2,  That  horn 

Of  fail'  Ausonia.] 
The  kingdom  of  Naples. 
V.  68.   The  land.]    Hungary. 

V.  73.  The  beautiful  Trinacria.]  Sicily  ;  so  called  from  its  three  pro- 
montories, of  which  Pachynus  and  Pelorus,  here  mentioned,  are  two. 

V.  74.  Typhvuus.]  The  giant,  whom  Jupiter  is  fabled  to  have  over- 
whelmed under  the  mountain  jEtua,  from  whence  he  vomits  forth  smoke 
and  flame. 

V.  77.  Sprung  throuc/h  me  from  Charles  and  Rodolph.]  "  Sicily  would 
be  still  ruled  by  a  race  of  monarchs,  descended  through  me  fromCharles 
I.  and  Rodoljih  I.,  the  former  my  grandfather,  king  oit'  Naples  and  Sicily; 
the  latter,  emperor  of  Germany,  my  father-in-law  ;  "  both  celebrated  in 
the  Purgatorj',  Canto  VH. 

V.  78.  Had  not  ill  loi'ding.]  "If  the  ill  conduct  of  our  governors  in 
Sicily  had  not  excited  the  resentment  and  hatred  of  the  people,  and 
stimulated  them  to  that  dreadful  massacre  at  the  Sicilian  vespers  ;"  in 
consequence  of  which  the  kingdom  fell  into  the  hands  of  Peter  III.  of 
Arragon,  in  1282. 

V.  81.  My  brother's  foresight.]  He  seems  to  tax  his  brother  Robert 
with  employing  necessitous  and  greedy  Cataloniaus  to  administer  the 
affairs  of  his  kingdom. 

V.  99.  Hoio  bitter  can  spring  up.]  "How  a  covetous  sou  can  spring 
from  a  liberal  father."  Yet  that  father  has  himself  been  accused  of 
avarice  in  the  Purgatory,  Canto  XX.  v.  78  ;  though  his  general  character 
was  that  of  a  bounteous  prince. 

V.  125.  Consult  your  teacher.]  Aristole.  cTrel  ef  avoiJ-oiiav  ri  woAts,  k.  t. 
A.  De  Rej).  1.  iii.  c.  4.  "  Since  a  state  is  made  up  of  members  differing 
from  one  another  ;  (for  even  as  an  animal,  in  the  first  in,stance,  consists 
of  soul  and  body  ;  and  the  son!,  of  reason  and  desire  ;  and  a  family,  of 
man  and  woman  ;  and  property,  of  master  and  slave  ;  in  like  manner  a 
state  consists  both  of  all  these,  and  besides  these  of  other  dissimilar 
kinds  ;)  it  necessarily  follows,  that  the  excellence  of  all  the  members 
of  the  state  cannot  be  one  and  the  same." 
V.  136.  Esau.]     Genesis,  c.  xxv.  22. 

V.  137.  Quiriiius.]  Romulus,  born  of  so  obscure  a  father,  that  bis 
parentage  was  attributed  to  Mars. 


430  NOTES. 


CANTO   IX. 

V.  2.  Ofair  Clemenza.]  Diiughter  of  Charles  Martel,  and  second  wife 
of  Louis  X.  of  France. 

V.  2.  Tfui  trcacheri/ .]  He  alludes  to  the  occupation  of  the  kingdom  of 
Sicily  by  licjbcrt,  in  exclusion  of  his  brother's  son  Carobert,  or  Charles 
Robert, "tlie  rightful  heir.     See  G.  Villani,  1.  viii.  c.  112. 

V.  7.   Tliat  sidnthj  l>(/ht.]    Charles  Martel. 

V.  25.  In  that  part.]  Between  Rialto  in  the  Venetian  territory,  and 
the  sources  of  the  rivers  Brenta  and  Piava,  is  situated  a  castle  called 
Uoinano,  the  birth-place  of  the  famous  tyrant  Ezzolino  or  Azzolino,  tlie 
brother  of  Cunizza,  who  is  now  speaking.  The  tyrant  we  have  seen  in 
"  the  river  of  blood."    Hell,  Canto  XII.  v.  110. 

V.  32.  Ctmizza.]  The  adventures  of  Cunizza,  overcome  by  the  influ- 
ence of  her  star,  are  related  by  the  chronicler  Rolandino  of  Padua,  1.  i. 
c.  3,  in  Muratori,  Rer.  It.  Script,  t.  viii.  p.  173.  She  eloped  from  her 
first  husband,  Richard  of  St.  Boniface,  in  the  company  of  Sordello,  (see 
Purgatory,  Canto  VI.  and  VII.)  with  whom  she  is  supposed  to  have  co- 
habited before  her  marriage:  then  lived  with  a  soldier  of  Trevigi,  whose 
wife  was  living  at  the  same  time  in  the  same  city  ;  and  on  his  being 
murdered  by  her  brother  the  tyrant,  was  by  her  brother  married  to  a 
nobleman  of  Bragnnzo  ;  lastly,  when  he  also  had  fallen  by  the  same 
hand,  she,  after  her  brother's  death,  was  again  wedded  in  Verona. 

V.  37.  This.]  Folco  of  Genoa,  a  celebrated  Proven(;al  poet,  commonly 
termed  Folques  of  Marseilles,  of  which  place  he  was  perhaps  bishoii. 
Many  errors  of  Nostradamus,  concerning  him,  which  have  been  followed 
by  Crescimbeni,  Quadrio,  and  Millot,  are  detected  by  the  diligence  of 
Tiraboschi.  Mr.  Matthias's  ed.  v.  1.  p.  18.  All  that  appears  certain,  is 
what  we  are  told  in  this  Canto,  that  he  was  of  Genoa  ;  and  by  Petrarch, 
in  the  Triumph  of  Love,  c.  iv.  that  he  was  better  known  by  the  appella- 
tion he  derived  from  Marseilles,  and  at  last  resumed  the  religious  habit. 

One  of  his  verses  is  cited  by  Dante,  De  Vulg.  Eloq.  1.  ii.  c.  6. 

V.  40.  Five  times.]  The  five  hundred  years  are  elapsed  :  and,  unless 
the  Provencal  MSS.  should  be  brought  to  light,  the  poetical  reputation 
of  Folco  must  rest  on  the  mention  made  of  him  by  the  more  fortunate 
Italians. 

V.  43.  The  crowd.]  The  people  who  inhabited  the  tract  of  country 
bounded  by  the  river  Tagliamento  to  the  east,  and  Adice  to  the  west. 

V.  45.  The  hour  is  near.]  Cunizza  foretells  the  defeat  of  Giacopo  da 
Carrara,  Lord  of  Padua,  by  Can  Grande,  at  Vicenza,  on  the  18th  Sep- 
tember, 1314.     See  G.  Villain,  1.  ix.  c.  62. 

V.  48.  One.]  She  predicts  also  the  fate  of  Ricciardo  da  Camino,  who 
is  said  to  have  been  murdered  at  Trevigi,  (where  the  rivers  Sile  and 
Caguano  meet)  while  he  was  engaged  in  playing  at  chess. 

V.  50.   The  loe^.]     The  net,  or  snare,  into  which  he  is  destined  to  fall. 

V.  50.  Feltro.]  The  Bishop  of  Feltro,  having  received  a  number  of 
fugitives  from  Ferrara,  who  were  in  opposition  to  the  Pope,  under  a 
promise  of  protection,  afterwards  gave  them  np  ;  so  that  they  were  re- 
conducted to  that  city,  and  the  greater  part  of  them  there  jiut  to  death. 

v.  53.  Malta's.]  A  tower,  eitlier  in  the  citadel  of  Padua,  which,  under 
the  tyranny  of  Ezzolino,  had  been  "  with  many  a  foul  and  midnight 
murder  fed  ;"  or  (as  some  say)  near  a  ri\er  of  the  same  name,  that  falls 
into  the  lake  of  15(>lsena,  in  which  the  Pojte  was  accustomed  to  imi)risoiJ 
Buch  as  had  been  guilty  of  an  irrcmissible  siu. 


PAllADISE.  481 

V.  5f;.  'lids  priest.]  Tlie  bisliop,  wlio,  to  show  liinisclf  ;i  zealous 
pjirtizan  of  the  Pope,  had  committed  the  above-mentioned  act  of 
treachery. 

V.  58.  We  descry.]  "  We  behold  the  things  tliat  we  predict,  in  tlio 
mirrors  of  eternal  truth." 

V.  64.  That  other  joyance.']    Folco. 

V.  76.  iSix  ,<ihadoiving  zvinrjs.]  "Above  it  stood  the  seraidiiras  :  eacli 
one  liad  six  wings."     I.«aiah,  c.  vi.  2. 

V.  80.  The  valley  of  loaters.]    Tlie  Mediterranean  sea. 

V.  80.  That.]    The  great  ocean. 

V.  82.  Discordant  shores.]     Europe  and  Africa . 

V.  8.3.  Meridian.]  Extending  to  the  east,  the  Mcditerranciin  at  last 
reaches  the  coa.st  of  Palestine,  which  is  on  its  horizon  when  it  enters  tlio 
Straits  of  Gibraltar.  "  Wherever  a  man  is,"  says  Vellutello,  "there  he 
has,  above  his  head,  his  own  particular  meridian  circle." 

V.  85 .  — '  Twi7t  Ebro's  stream 

And  Macraes.] 
Ebro,  a  river  to  the  west,  and  Macra,  to  the  east  of  Genoa,  where  Folco 
was  born. 

V.  88.  Bcf/ga.]     A  place  in  Africa,  nearly  opposite  to  Genoa. 

V.  89.  Whose  haven.]  Alluding  to  the  terrible  slaugliter  of  the  Gen- 
oese made  by  the  Saracens  in  '.)36  ;  for  which  event  Vellutello  refers  to 
the  history  of  Augnstino  Giustiniani. 

V.  91.  This  ?ieav'n.]    The  ]ilanet  Venus. 

V.  9.3.  Debts'  daiu/hter.]     Dido. 

V.  96.  <s7ie  of  Rhodope.]    Phyllis. 

V.  98.  Jore''s  son.]    Hercules. 

V.  112.  Rahah.]     Heta.  c.  xi.  31. 

V.  120.  With  either  palm.]     "  By  the  crucifixion  of  Christ." 

V.  126.  The  cvrscd  flower.]    The  coin  of  Florence,  called  the  florcn. 

V.  130.  77ie  decretals.]    Tlie  canon  law. 

V.  134.  The  Vatican.]  He  alludes  either  to  the  deatli  of  Pojie  Boniface 
VIII.  or,  as  Venturi  supposes,  to  the  coming  of  the  Enii)eror  Henry  VII. 
into  Italy  ;  or  else,  according  to  the  yet  more  probable  conjecture  of 
Lombardi,  to  the  transfer  of  the  holy  see  from  Rome  to  Avignon,  which 
took  place  in  the  pontificate  of  Clement  V. 


CANTO  X. 

v.  7.  The  point.]  "To  that  part  of  heaven,"  as  Venturi  explains  it, 
"  in  which  the  equinoctial  circle  and  tlie  Zodiac  intersect  each  other, 
where  the  common  motion  of  the  heavens  from  east  to  west  may  be  s;iid 
to  strike  with  greatest  force  against  the  motion  ])roper  to  the  planets  ; 
and  this  repercussion,  as  it  were,  is  here  the  strongest,  because  tlie  ve- 
locity of  each  is  increased  to  the  utmost  by  their  respective  distance 
from'  the  poles.     Such  at  least  is  the  system  of  Dante." 

V.  11.  Oblique.]    The  zodiac. 

V.  25.  The  part .]  The  above-m.entioned  intersection  of  the  equinoctial 
circle  and  the  zodiac. 

V.  26.   Minister.]     The  sun. 

V.  30.  Where.]  In  which  the  sun  rises  every  day  earlier  after  th« 
rernal  equinox. 

V.  45.  Fourth  family .]    The  inhabitants  of  the  sun,  the  fourth  planet. 


432  NOTKS. 

V.  AC).  Of  hin  uphit  (Did  of  his  ofspj-iin/.]  Tlic  procopsioii  of  the  lliird, 
and  tlie  f^eiicnitiou  of  the  second  person  in  tlie  Trinity. 

V.  70.  Such  tvas  (he  sovy.]     "  Tlie  sonj;  of  thc^e  si)irits  was  ineffable." 

V.  8().  No  less  conslruhiedA  "  Tlie  riv<!rs  nii<;ht  as  easily'  cease  to  flow 
towards  the  sea,  as  we  could  deny  thoe  thy  request." 

V.  ill.  I  thoi.]     "  I  was  of  tlic  l)oniinic;in  order." 

V.  95.  Albert  of  Colo(/}ic.]  Albertiis  Ma{;niis  was  lx)rn  at  Lanp;inKcn, 
in  Thurinjiia,  in  llii.S,  and  studied  at  Paris  and  at  Padua,  at  the  latter  of 
which  places  he  entered  into  the  Dominican  order.  lie  then  tauu'ht 
theology  in  various  parts  of  Germany,  and  jjarticnlarly  at  Cohii^iie. 
Thomas  Aquinas  was  Ids  favouiite  pupil.  In  ]2(X),  lie  reluctantly  ac- 
cepted the  bishopric  of  Ratisbon,  and  in  two  years  after  resij^ned  it,'  and 
X'eturncd  to  his  cell  in  Cologne,  where  the  remainder  of  his  life  was 
passed  in  superintending  the  school,  and  in  coni])Osing  his  voluminous 
works  on  divinity  and  natural  science.  He  died  in  12^,0.  The  absurd 
imputation  of  his  having  dealt  in  the  magical  art  is  well  known  ;  and 
his  biographers  take  some  i)ains  to  clear  him  of  it.  Scriptores  Ordiiiis 
Praedicatorum,  by  Quetif  and  Echard,  Lut.  Par.  !l71!J.  fol.  t.  1.  p.  Kili. 

V.  96.  Of  Aq\tmxim,  llwmas.]  Thomas  Aquinas,  of  whom  Bucer  is 
reported  to  have  said,  "  Take  but  Thomas  away,  and  I  will  overturn  the 
church  of  Rome,"  and  whom  Hooker  terms  ''the  greates-t  among  the 
school  divines,"  (Eccl.  Pol.  b.  3.  §  9),  was  born  of  noble  paicnts,  «  ho 
anxiously,  but  vainly,  endeavoured  to  divert  him  from  a  life  of  celibacy 
and  study  ;  and  died  in  1274,  at  the  age  of  forty-seven.  Echard  and 
Quetif,  ibid.  p.  271.     See  also  Purgatory,  Canto  XX.  v.  {17. 

V.  101.  Gratiaii.]  "Gratian,  a  Benedictine  monk  belonging  to  the 
con%'ent  of  St.  Felix  and  Nabor,  at  Bologna,  and  by  biith  a  Tuscan, 
coniix)sed,  about  the  year  lloO,  for  the  use  of  the  schools,  an  abiidg- 
Tuent  or  epitome  of  canon  law,  drawn  from  the  letters  of  the  iiontiffs, 
the  decrees  of  councils,  and  the  writings  of  the  ancient  doctors."  Mac- 
laine's  Mosheim,  v.  iii.  cent.  12.  part  2.  c.  i.  §  6. 

V.  101.  To  either  foriim.]  "  By  reconciling,"  as  Venturi  explains  it, 
"the  civil  with  the  ciinon  law." 

V.  104.  Peter.]  "  Pietro  Lombardo  was  of  obscure  origin,  nor  is  the 
place  of  his  birth  in  Lombardy  ascertained.  With  a  recommendation 
from  the  bishop  of  Lucca  to  St.  Bernard,  he  went  into  France  to  con- 
tinue his  studies;  and  for  that  luirpose  remained  some  time  at  Rheims, 
whence  he  afterwards  ]iroceedcd  to  Paris.  Here  his  reputation  was  so 
great,  that  Philip,  brother  of  Loui.s  VII.,  being  chosen  bishop  of  Paris, 
resigned  that  dignity  to  Pietro,  whose  pupil  he  had  been.  He  held  his 
bishopric  oidy  one  year,  and  died  in  11(50.  His  Liber  Sentcntiarum  is 
highly  esteemed.  It  contains  a  system  of  scholastic  theology,  so  much 
more  complete  than  anj'wliich  had  been  yet  seen,  that  it  may  be  deemed 
an  original  work."     Tirabo.schi,  Storia  della  Lett.  Ital.  t.  iii.l.  4.  c.  2. 

v.  104.  Who  vnth  the  ividow  f/ot-p.]  This  alludes  to  the  beginning  of 
the  Liber  Sentcntiarum,  where  Peter  says:  "  Cupiens  aliquid  de  i)eniuia 
ac  tenuitate  nostra  cum  panpercula  in  gnzophylacium  domiui  mittere," 

V.  105.  Thp  Jifih  lif/ht.']     Solomon 

V.  112.  That  toper' s  radiance.]  St.  Di.)nysius  the  Areopagite.  "The 
famous  Grecian  fanatic,  who  gave  himself  out  for  Dionysius  the  Areop.i- 
gite,  disciple  of  St.  Paul,  and  who,  under  the  protection  of  this  venerable 
name,  gave  laws  and  instructions  to  those  that  were  desirous  of  raising 
their  souls  above  all  human  things,  in  order  to  unite  them  to  their  great 
source  by  sublime  coutemplatioii,  lived  most  probably  in  this  ceutury 


PARADISE.  433 

(the  foiirlb);  thoiiy;h  some  iil.ice  liiin  before,  others  after,  tlie  present 
period."     Maclaiiio's  Mosheim,  v.  i.  cent.  iv.  j).  2.  c.  .'?.  §  12. 

V.  IIC).  That  pli-'ii'Jrr.]  In  the  fifth  century,  Tanliis  Orosius  "  acquireil 
a  considerable  decree  of  reputation  by  the  History  lie  wrote  to  refute 
the  cavils  of  the  Pagans  against  Christianity,  and  by  his  books  against 
the  Pelagians  and  Priscillianists."  Ibid.  v.  ii.  cent.  v.  p.  12.  c.  2.  §  11.  A 
similar  train  of  argument  was  pursued  by  Augustine,  in  his  book  De 
Civitate  Dei. 

Orosius  is  classed  by  Dante,  in  his  treatise  De  Vnlg.  Eloq.  1.  ii.  c.  G.  a.s 
one  of  his  favourit  antiiors,  among  those  "qui  usi  sunt  altissimas  i)rf> 
sas," — "  who  have  written  prose  with  the  greatest  loftiness  of  style." 

V.  110.  The  eir/hth.]  Boetius,  whose  book  De  Consohitione  Philoso- 
phi;e  excited  so  much  attention  during  the  middle  ages,  was  born,  as 
Tiraboschi  conjectures,  about  -ITO,  "  In  524  he  was  cruelly  put  to  deat'i, 
by  command  of  Theodoric,  either  on  real  or  pretended  snsi)icion  of  his 
being  engaged  in  ,a  conspiracy."     Delia  Lett.  Ital.  t.  iii.  1.  i.  c.  4. 

V.  124.  Ckldauro.]  Boetius  was  buried  at  Pavia,  in  the  monastery  of 
S.  Pictro  in  Ciel  d'oro. 

V.  12(!.  l.sidore.]  He  was  Archbishop  of  Seville  daring  forty  years,  and 
died  in  (j.'?.').    See  IMariana,  Hist.  1.  vi.  c.  7. 

Mosheim,  whose  critical  oi^inions  in  general  must  be  taken  with  somr 
allowance,  observes  that  "his  grammatical,  theological,  and  historical 
productions,  discover  more  learning  and  pedantry,  than  judgment  and 
taste." 

v.  127.  Bede.]  Bede,  whose  virtues  obtained  him  the  appellation  of 
the  Venerable,  was  born  in  ()72  at  Wearmontli  and  Jarrow,  in  the  bishop- 
ric of  Durham,  and  died  in  735.  Invited  to  Rome  by  Pope  Sergius  I.,  he 
preferred  passing  almost  the  whole  of  his  life  in  the  seclusion  of  a 
monastery.  A  catalogue  of  his  numerous  writings  may  be  seen  ii) 
Kippis's  Biographia  Britannica,  v.  ii. 

v.  127.  Richard.]  Richard  of  St.  Victor,  a  native  either  of  Scotland  or 
Ireland,  was  canon  and  prior  of  the  monastery  of  that  name  at  Paris; 
and  died  in  1173.  "He  was  at  the  head  of  the  Mystics  in  this  century; 
and  his  treatise,  entitled  the  Mystical  Ark,  which  contains  as  it  were  the 
marrow  of  this  kind  of  theology,  was  received  with  the  greatest  avidity." 
Maclaine's  Mosheim,  v.  iii.  cent.  xii.  p.  2.  c.  2.  §  2.3. 

v.  1.32.  Sif/ehert.]  "A  monlc  of  the  abbey  of  Geniblonrs,  who  was 
in  high  repute  at  the  end  of  the  eleventh,  and  beginning  of  the  twelfth, 
century."     Diet,  de  Moreri. 

V.  134.  TJie  straw-litter' d  street.]  The  name  of  a  street  in  Paris :  the 
"Rue  du  Fonarre." 

V.  135.  The  spouse  of  God.]    The  church. 

CANTO    XI. 

V.  1.  0  fond  anxiety  of  mortal  men.]    Lucretius,  1.  ii.  14. 

O  miseras  hominnm  mentes  !  O  pectora  ceca  J 
Qualibns  in  tenebris  vitir,  qnantisque  periclia 
Degitur  hoc  ievi  quodcnnquc  est  ! 

V.  4.  Aiihorit<i)i.\]     The  stiuly  of  medicuic. 

V.  17.  The  liii^lir.]    Tlie  spirit  of  Thomas  Aquinas. 

V.  2<).  ,S7;<'.]     The  church. 


34.  One]  Saint  Francis. 


28 


434  NOTK8. 

v.Sfi.   'Ilie  other.']     Suiiit  Doiniiiic. 

V.  40.  Th])iii(j.]    A  rivulet  near  Assisi,  or  Ascesi,  where  Francis  was         \ 
born  ill  11X2.  [ 

V.  40.  T/i.e  ivave.]  Chiascio,  a  strciun  tliiit  ri.ses  in  a  mountain  near 
Agobbio,  chosen  by  St.  Ubaklo  for  tlie  place  of  his  rctireineiit.  \ 

V.  42.  Ileal  and  cold. \     Cold  from  the  snow,  and  heat  from  t'.'e  reflec-  ' 

tion  of  the  sun. 

V.  45.  Yoke.]  Vellutello  understands  this  of  the  vicinity  of  llie  jn,o(/u- 
taiii  to  Noccra  and  Giialdo;  and  Veiitiiri(as  I  have  taken  it)  of  the  heavy 
iniliositions  laid  on  those  places  by  the  rerugians.  For  <yw£/o,  like  the 
Liitin./«f/w??i,  will  admit  of  either  sense. 

V.  50.  The  cast.] 

This  is  the  cast,  and  Juliet  is  the  sun. 

t^hakspeare. 

V.  55.  'Gai7ist  his  father's  ivill.]  In  opposition  to  the  wishes  of  his 
natural  father. 

V.  58.  In  hisfather^s  fiight.']  The  spiritual  father,  or  bishop,  in  v/hose 
presence  he  made  a  profession  of  poverty. 

V.  60.  Her  first  husband.]     Christ. 

V.  63  Amyclas.]  Lucan  makes  Cffisar  exclaim,  on  witnessing  the  secure 
poverty  of  the  fisherman  Amyclas  : 

0  vitre  tuta  facultas 

Pauperis,  angustique  lares  !  O  munera  nondum 
Intellecta  deiim  !  quibus  hoc  contiiigere  templis, 
Ant  potuit  muris,  niillo  trepidare  tniiiultu, 
Cajsarea  pulsante  manu? 

rhars.  1.  V.  5.31. 

V.  72.  Ber7iard.]     One  of  the  first  followers  of  the  saint. 

V.  76.  Ef/idivs.]  The  third  of  his  disciples,  wlio  died  in  1262.  His 
work,  entitled  Verba  Aurea,  was  published  in  1534,  at  Antwerp.  See 
Lucas  Waddingus,  Aunales  Ordinis  Minoris,  p.  5. 

V.  76.  Sylvester.]    Another  of  his  earliest  associates. 

V.  83.  Pietro  Bernardone.]  A  man  in  an  humble  station  of  life  at 
Assisi. 

V.  85.  Innocent.']    Pope  Innocent  III. 

V.  90.  Honorms.]  His  successor  Honorius  III.  who  granted  certain 
privileges  to  the  Franciscans. 

V.  93.  On  the  hard  rock.]    The  mountain  Alverna  in  the  Apennine. 

V.  100.  The  last  sif/net.]  Alluding  to  the  stigmata,  or  marks  resembling 
the  wounds  of  Christ,  said  to  have  been  found  on  the  saint's  body. 

V.  106.  His  dearest  lady.]     Poverty. 

V.  113.  Our  Patriarch.]     Saint  Dominic. 

V.  116.  His  flock.]    The  Dominicans. 

V.  127.  The  planet  from  ivhence  they  split.']  "  The  rule  of  their  order, 
which  the  Dominicans  neglect  to  observe."  \ 

CANTO  XII. 

V.  1.  The  blessed  flame.]    Thomas  Aquinas. 

V.  12.  That  voice.]  The  nymph  Echo,  transformed  into  the  repcrcug- 
fsion  of  the  voice. 


PARADISE.  4C5 

V.  25.  Onp.]  Saint  Bnoiiavcntnra,  _£;ciioral  of  the  Fraiioiscan  order,  in 
which  he  efrectcd  some  rct'ornialion,  and  one  of  the  most  iirofduiul  di- 
vines of  liis  ai;e.  "lie  rcltised  the  archlMslioprii;  of  Yorls,  which  una 
offered  him  by  Clement  IV.,  but  afterwards  was  prevaihnl  on  to  accept 
the  bishojiric  of  Alliano  and  a  cardinal's  hat.  lie  was  boi-n  at  I5a,i;n(ire- 
gio  or  Ba.ynorea,  in  Tnscany,  a.d.  1221,  and  died  in  1274."  Diet.  Histor. 
par  Chaiidon  et  Dclandine.  Kd.  Lyon.  1814. 

V.  28.    T/te  lore.]      By  an  act  of  niutual  conrtesy,  IJuonaventnra,   a 
Franciscan,  is  made  to  iiroclaim  the  i)raises  of  St.  Uoniinic,  as  Thonii^s 
Aquinas,  a  Dominican,  has  celebrated  those  of  St.  Francis. 
'     V.  42.  In  that  clime]     Spain. 

V.  48.  Cnllarof/a.]  Between  Osuia  and  Aranda,  in  Old  Castile,  desig- 
nated by  the  royal  coal  of  arms. 

\.  51.  The  loi'iiu/  winion  of  the  Christian  faith.]  Dominic  was  born 
Aprils,  1170,  and'  died  Aiigiistfi,  1221.  His  "birth-place,  Callaroga;  his 
father  and  mother's  names,  Felix  and  Joanna,  liis  mother's  dream;  his 
name  of  Donunic,  given  him  in  consequence  of  a  vision  by  a  noble  ma- 
tron, who  stood  sponsor  to  him,  are  all  told  in  an  anonymous  life  of  the 
saint,  said  tt)  be  written  in  the  thirteentli  century,  and  published  by 
Quetif  and  ICcliard,  Scriptores  Ordinis  Pradicatornm.  Par.  1719.  fol.  t. 
1.  p.  25.  These  writers  deny  his  having  been  an  inquisitor,  and  iiuh cd 
the  establishment  of  the  inquisition  itself  before  the  fourth  Latcrau 
council.     Ibid.  p.  88. 

V.  55.  In  the  mother's  ico77ib.]  His  mother,  when  pregnant  with  him, 
is  paid  to  have  dreamt  that  she  should  bring  forth  a  white  and  black  dog, 
witli  a  lighted  torch  in  its  mouth. 

V.  59.  The  dajne.]  His  godmother's  dream  was,  that  he  had  one  star 
in  his  forehead,  and  another  in  the  nape  of  his  neck,  from  which  he  com- 
municated light  to  the  east  and  the  west. 

V.  73.  Feliic.]    Felix  Gusman. 

V.  75.  As  men  interpret  it.]     Grace  or  gift  of  the  Lord. 

V.  77.  Ostiense.]    A  cardinal,  who  explained  the  decretals. 

V.  77.  Taddeo.]    A  physician  of  Florence. 

V.  82.  The  see.]  "  'The  apostolic  see,  which  no  longer  continues  its 
wonted  liberality  towards  the  indigent  and  deserving;  not  indeed  tlirougli 
its  own  fault,  as  its  doctrines  are  still  the  same,  but  through  the  fault  of 
the  pontiff,  who  is  seated  in  it." 

V.  85.  No  dispensation.]  Dominic  did  not  ask  licence  to  compound  for 
tlie  use  of  unjust  acquisitions,  by  dedicating  a  part  of  them  to  pious 
purposes. 

V.  89.  Infavovrofthatseed.]  "For  that  seed  of  the  divine  word, 
from  which  have  sprung  up  these  four-and-twenty  plants,  that  now 
environ  thee." 

V.  104.  Uut  ihe  track.]  "But  tlie  rule  of  St.  Francis  is  already  de- 
serted: ami  the  lees  of  the  wine  are  turned  into  niouldiness." 

V.  110.  Tares.]    He  adverts  to  the  parable  of  the  taies  and  the  wheat. 

V.  111.  I  question  not.]  "  Some  indeed  might  be  found,  who  still  ob- 
eerve  the  rule  of  the  order;  but  such  would  come  neither  from  Ca sale 
nor  Acquasparta : "  of  the  former  of  whicli  places  was  Uberto,  one 
master-general,  by  whom  the  disciiiline  had  been  relaxed;  and  of  the 
latter,  Matteo,  another,  who  had  enforced  it  with  unnecessary  rigour. 

V.  121.  Ilhnninato  here, 

And  Agostino.] 

Two  among  the  earliest  followers  of  St.  Francis. 


436  NOTES.  ' 

V.  125.  Ihif/vrs  of  St.  Victor.']  A  Saxon  of  tlio  monastery  of  Saint  Vic- 
tor, .at  I'aris,  who  clicil  in  1142,  at  the  atre  of  forty-four.  "  A  mau  distin-  i 
giiished  by  the  fecundity  of  his  genius,  who  treated  in  liis  \vritin,i;s  of  all  ] 
tlie  branches  of  sacred  and  profane  erudition  that  were  Ivnown  in  his  time, 
and  who  csomposcd  sevenil  dissertations  that  arc  not  destitute  of  merit." 
Macl.aine's  Mosheini,  Eccl.  Hist.  v.  iii  cent.  xii.  p.  2.  c.  2.  §  23.  I  liavo 
looived  into  his  writings,  and  found  some  reason  for  tliis  high  eulogium.    J 

V.  125.  PMro  Bfaiif/iadore.]     "  Petrus  Comestor,  or  the  Eater,  born  at    ' 
Troycs,  was  canon  and  dean  of  tliat  chnrcli,  and  afterw.ards  cliancellor    ' 
of  the  clmrcli  of  I'aris.     He  relinquislied  these  benefices  to  become  a 
regular  canon  of  St.  Victor  at  Paris,  where  he  died  in  1198."     Chaudon 
et  Delandine,  Diet.  Hist.  Ed.  Lyon.  1804. 

The  work  by  which  he  is  best  known,  is  his  Historia  Scolastica,  which 
I  shall  have  occasion  to  cite  in  the  Notes  to  Canto  XXVI. 

V.  120.  Tie  of  Spain.]  "To  Pope  Adrian  V.  succeeded  .John  XXI.  a.  ' 
native  of  Lisbon ;  a  man  of  great  genius  and  extraordinary  acquirements, 
especially  in  logic  and  in  medicine,  as  his  books,  written  in  the  name  of 
Peter  of  Spain  (by  which  he  was  Ivnown  before  lie  became  Pope),  may 
testify.  His  life  was  not  much  longer  than  that  of  his  predecessors,  for  ; 
lie  was  killed  at  Viterbo,  by  the  falling  in  of  tlie  roof  of  his  chamber, 
after  he  had  been  pontiff  only  eight  months  and  as  many  days,"  A.i>. 
1277.  Mariana,  Hist,  de  Esp.  1.  xiv.  c.  2. 

V.  128.  Chriisostom.]    The  eloquent  patriarch  of  Constantinople. 

V.  128.   Anselmo.]     "  Ansel ni.  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  was  born  at     ; 
Aosta,  about  10;34,  and  studied  under  Lanfranc,  at  the  monastery  of  Bee,     \ 
in  Normandy,  where  he  afterwards  devoted  himself  to  a  religious  life, 
in  his  twenty-seventh  year.     In  three  years  he  was  made  prior,  and  then     ' 
abbot  of  that  monastery;  from  whence  he  was  taken,  in  1093,  to  succeed    -i 
to  the  archl)ishopric,  vacant  by  the  death  of  Lanfranc.    He  enjoyed  this 
dignity  till  his  deatli,  in  1109,  though  it  was  disturbed  by  many  dissen- 
sions with  William  II.  and  Henry  I.  respecting  the  immunities  and  in-    - 
vestitiires.     There  is  much  depth  and  precision  in  his  tlieological  works."    ? 
Tiraboschi,  Stor.  della.  Lett.  Ital.  t.  iii.  1.  iv.  c.  2.  "  | 

Ibid.  c.  V.  "  It  is  an  observation  made  by  many  modern  writers,  that  j 
the  demonstration  of  the  existence  of  God,  taken  from  the  idea  of  a  l 
Supreme  Being,  of  which  Des  Cartes  is  thought  to  be  the  author,  was  so  ' 
many  ages  back  discovered  and  brouglit  to  light  by  Anselm.  Leibnitz  ] 
himself  makes  the  remark,  vol.  v.  Oper.  p.  570.  Edit.  Genev.  17r)8."  i 

V.  129.  Donatas.]  .^lius  Donatus,  the  grammarian,  in  the  fourth  ceu-  s 
tnry,  one  of  the  preceptors  of  St.  Jerome.  J 

V.  ISO.  Rahan.]  "Rabanus  Maurus,  Archbishop  of  Mentz,  is  deserv-  I 
edly  placed  at  the  head  of  the  Lathi  writers  of  this  age."  Mosheini,  v.  » 
ii.  cent.  ix.  p.  2.  c.  2.  §  14.  | 

V.  lo\.  Joachim.]  Abbot  of  Flora  in  Calabria ;  "whom  the  multitude  | 
revered  as  a  person  divinely  inspired,  and  equal  to  the  most  illustrious  \ 
proi)hets  of  ancient  times."     Ibid.  v.  iii.  cent.  xiii.  p.  2.  c.  2.  §  33. 

V.  134.  A  peer.]     St.  Dominic. 

CANTO  XIII.  I 

V.  1.  TM  him.]    "  Whoever  wonld  conceive  the  .sight  that  now  prc- 

Bented  itself  to  me,  must  imagine  to  himself  fifteen  of  the  brightest  stars  • 

in   heaven,  together   with   seven   stars  of   Arctiirus   Major  and  two  of  \ 

Arcturus  Minor,  ranged  in  two  circles,  one  within  the  other,  each  re-  ^ 


+ 


PARADISB.  437 

sembling  tlie  crown  of  Ariarlne,  and  moving  ronnd  in  opposite  direc- 
tions." 
V.  21.  The  Cliiana.]     See  Hell,  Cniito  XXIX.  45. 
V.  20.  That  Ivmiimn/.]     Thomas  A(iiiinas. 
V.  31.   One  ear.]     "  Havin.i^r  solved  one  of  thy  questions,  I  proceed  to  [ 

answer  the  other.    Thou  thinUest,  then,  that  Adam  and  Christ  were  both  | 

endued  with  all  the   jierfection  of  which  the  human  nature  is  capable,  I 

and  therefore  woiiderest  at  what  has  been  said  concerninjj  Solomon."  I 

V.  48.   TJiat.]     "  Things  corruptible  and  incorruptible,  are  only  emana-  J 

tions  from  the  archetypal  idea  residing  in  tlie  Divine  mind."  \ 

y.  52.  His  brightness.]     The  Word. -"the  Sou  of  God.  j 

V.  53.  His  love  triune  loith  them.]    The  Holy  Ghost.  { 

V.  55.  Neiv  existences.]    Angels  and  human  souls.  I 

V.  57.  The  lowest  poioers.]     Irrational  life  and  brute  matter.  j 

V.  02.  Tlieir  loax  and  that  lohich  moulds  it.]     Matter,  ;iud  the  virtue  or  f 

energy,  that  acts  on  it.  \ 

V.  G'8.  The  heav'n.]    The  influence  of  the  planetary  bodies.  if 

V.  77.   The  clay.]     Adam.  | 

V.  88.  Who  a.^k'd.]  "He  did  not  desire  to  know  the  number  of  the 
stars,  or  to  pry  into  the  subtleties  of  metaphysical  and  mathematical 
science:  bat  asked  for  that  wisdom  which  might  fit  him  for  his  kingly 
office." 

V.  120.  Parmenides, 

Melisszis  Bryso.] 
For  the  singular  opinions  entertained  by  the  two  former  of  these  heathen 
philosophers,  see  Diogenes  Laertius,  1.  ix.  and  Aristot.  de  Ca?lo,  1.  iii.c.  1. 
and  Phys.  1.  i.  c.  2.  Tlie  last  is  also  twice  adduced  by  Aristotle  (Anal. 
Post.  1.  i.  c.  9.  and  Rhet.  1.  iii.  c.  2.)  as  affording  instances  of  false 
reasoning. 
V.  123.  tSdbellius,  Aritis.]     Well-known  heretics. 

V.  124.  Scj/mitars.]  A  passage  in  the  travels  of  Bertradon  de  la 
Brocquiere,  translated  by  Mr.  Johnes,  will  explain  this  allusion,  which 
has  given  some  tnnible  to  tlie  connnentators.  That  traveller,  who  wrote 
before  Dante,  informs  us,  p.  138,  that  the  wandering  Arabs  used  their 
scymitars  as  mirrors. 

V.  12G.  Let  not.]  "  Let  not  short-sighted  mortals  presume  to  decide 
on  the  future  doom  of  any  man,  from  a  consideration  of  his  present  char- 
acter and  actions." 


CANTO  XIV. 

V.  5.  S^lch  was  the  image.]  The  voice  of  Thomas  Aquinas  proceeding 
from  the  circle  to  the  centre,  and  that  of  Beatrice  from  the  centre  to  the 
circle. 

V.  26.  Him.]  Literally  translated  by  Chaueer,  Troilus  and  Cresseide, 
b.  5. 

Thon  one,  two,  and  three  eterne  on  live, 
That  raignest  aie  in  three,  two,  and  one, 
Uncircnmscript,  and  all  mai.st  circonscrive. 


v.  31.   The  goodliest  light]     Solomon. 

V.  78.  To  more  lofty  bliss.]    To  the  planet  Mara. 

V.  94.   The  venerable  sign.]    The  cross. 


438  NOTES. 

ij 

V.  ILTi.   TTr.']     "  TTf^,  wlio  rnnsiilois  tliat  tlir>  ryos  of  T.oiitrico  1)fcame  j 

more  i:iili;iiit  tlio  liii^'licr  wo  ascimlcd,  must  not  Wdiidcr  tli;il  I  do  not  f;x-  ; 

(•opt  ovon  tlioni,!is  1  had  imt  jet  behold  thoiii  since  our  ontiance  into  lliis 

plaint." 

CANTO    XV. 

V.  24.  Our  greater  Mu^c.'\    Viigil,  ^En.  1.  vi.  ('.84.  [ 

V.  84.  I  onithif  root.]    Cacciaguida,  fatlier  to  Alighieri,  of  whom  our  r 

Poet  was  the  f;ieat-yiaiid.«oii.  j 

\.  S':).  'Fhc  monxUiiv.]     rnrsatory.  I 

V.  !)2.  Fl'irvnrc]     See  G.  Villain,  1.  iii.  C.  2.  : 

V.  !»;>.    W/iich  rails  hvr  still.]    The  public  clock  beiiig  f^till  within  the  , 
circuit  of  the  aucioiit  walls. 

V.  98.   When.]     When  the  women  were  not  married  at  too  early  an  age,  I 

and  did  ntjt  cxi)ect  too  large  a  portion.  t 

V.  101.    Void.]     Through  the  civil  wars.  i 

V.  102.  Sardanapdltts.]    The  luxurious  monarch  of  A.ssyria.    Juvenal  . 

is  here  imitated,  who  uses  his  name  for  an  instance  of  effeminacy.     Sat.  '■ 

X.  302.  i 

V.   103.   Monlemalo.]     Either  an  elevated  spot  between  Rome  and  •: 

Viterbo ;  or  Monte  Mario,  the  site  of  the  villa  Mellini,  commanding  a  view  \ 

of  Rome.  [ 

V.  104.  Our  aiilmrhan.  turret.]    Uccellato  jo,  near  Florence,  from  whence  j 

that  city  was  discovered.  j 

V.  lOG.  Bclliiiricn  Ikrti.]    Hell,  Canto  XVI.  38.  and  Notes.    There  ia 

a  curious  descri])tion  of  the  siniiile  manner  in  which  the  earlier  Floreii-  \ 

tines  dressed  themselves  in  G.  Villani,  1.  vi.  c.  71.  \ 

V.  110.]     Of  Nerliandof  Vecchio.]    Two  of  the  most  opulent  families  5 

in  Florence.  • 

v.  113.  Each.]     "  None  fearful  either  of  dying  in  banishment,  or  of  [ 

being  deserted  by  her  husband  on  a  scheme  of  traffic  in  France.  L 

V.I20.  A  Salterello  and  Ciavf/hclla.]    The  latter  a  shameless  woman  !■ 

of  the  family  of  Tosa,  married  to  Lito  degli  Alidosi  of  Imola :  the  former  [ 

Lapo  Salterello,  a  lawyer,  witli  whom  Dante  was  at  variance.  } 

V.  125.  Mary.]    The  Virgin  was  invoked  in  the  pains  of  child-biith.  | 

Purgatory,  Canto  XX.  21.  f 

V.  ISO.' Valdipado.]     Cacciaguida's  wife,  who.se  family  name  was  Al-  • 
dighieri,  came  from  Ferrara,  called  Val  di  Pado,  from  its  being  watered 

by  the  Po.  I 

V.  131.  Conrad.]    The  Emperor  Conrad  III.  who  died  in  1152.     See  G. 
Villani,  1.  iv.  34. 

V.  130.   Whose  people.]    The  Mahometan.?,  who  were  left  in  possession  | 
of  the  Holy  Land,  through  the  supineness  of  the  Pope. 

CANTO  XVI. 

; 

V.  10.   With  f/reetinr/.]    The  Poet,  who  had  addressed  the  spirit,  not  j 

knowing  him  to  be  his  ancestor,  with  a  plain  "Thou,"  now  uses  more  ij 

ceremony,   and   calls   him   "You,"  according  to  a  cu.stom   introduced  | 
among  the  Ronian.s  in  the  latter  times  of  the  empire. 


PARADISE.  439 

V.  15.  Giiinever.']  Be.atrice's  smile  cn('onr.'iG;ecl  liim  to  proceed;  just 
as  tlie  C()iif;h  of  Giiievi'a's  fenuile  servant  t^ave  lioi-  mi.sti'css.assurancc  to 
admit  tlie  freedoms  of  Lancelot.     See  Hell,  Uanto  V.  124. 

V.  2'A.  The  fold.]  Florence,  of  which  John  the  Baptist  was  the  patrou 
saint. 

V.  31.  From  the  daij.']  From  tlie  Incarnation  to  the  birth  of  Caccia- 
giiida,  the  planet  Mars  had  returned  five  hundred  and  fifty-three  times 
to  the  constellation  of  Leo,  with  which  it  is  supposed  to  have  a  conjjenial 
influence.    His  birth  may,  therefore,  lie  placed  about  HOG. 

V.  38.  TliG  last.']  The  city  was  divided  into  four  comi)artments.  The 
Elisei,  tlie  ancestors  of  Daiite,  resided  near  the  entrance  of  that  named 
from  the  Porta  S.  Piero,  which  was  the  last  reached  by  the  competitor  in 
the  annual  race  at  Florence.     See  G.  Villaui,  1.  iv.  c.  10. 

V.  44.  From  Mars.]  "  Both  in  the  times  of  heathenism  and  of  Christi- 
anity."   Hell,  Canto  XIIL  144. 

v."48.  Campi  and  Certaldo  and  Fighine.]  Country  places  near  Flor- 
ence. 

V.  50.  Tliat  these  people.]  "That  the  inhabitants  of  the  above-men- 
tioned places  had  not  been  mixed  with  the  citizens:  nor  the  limits  of 
Florence  extended  beyond  Galhizzo  and  Trespiano." 

V.  54.  Ar;}(f/Uone's  hind  and  Signals.]  Baldo  of  Aguglione,  and  Boni- 
fazio  of  Signa 

V.  50.  Had  not  the  people.]  If  Rome  had  continued  in  her  allegiance  to 
the  emperor,  and  the  Guelpli  and  Ghibelline  factions  had  thus  been  pre- 
vented, Florence  would  not  have  been  polluted  by  a  race  of  upstarts,  nor 
lost  the  most  respectable  of  her  ancient  families. 

V.  61.  Simifonte.]  A  castle  dismantled  by  the  Florentines.  G.  Villani, 
L  V.  c.  30.    The  individual  here  alluded  to  is  no  longer  known. 

V.  69.  The  blind  bull.]     So  Chaucer,  Troilus  and  Cresseide  b.  2. 

For  swifter  conrse  cometh  thing  that  is  of  wight 
When  it  desceudeth  than  done  things  light. 

Compare  Aristotle,  Ethic.  Nic.  1.  vi.  c.  13.     "  crtufian  io-x^'P".  ''•  t-  ^• 

V.  72.  Liini,  Urbisaglia.]  Cities  formerly  of  importance,  but  then  fallen 
to  decay. 

V.  74.  Chiusi  and  Sinigaf/lia.]    The  same. 

V.  80.  As  the  moon.]  "  The  fortune  of  us,  that  are  the  moon's  men, 
doth  ebb  and  flow  like  the  sea."    Shaksi^eare,  1  Henry  IV.  a.  1.  s.  2. 

V.  86.  The  Uf/hi.]  Whoever  is  curious  to  know  the  habitations  of  these 
and  the  other  ancient  Florentines,  may  consult  G.  Villani,  1.  iv. 

V.  91.  At  the  poop.]  Many  editions  read  porta.  "gate."^The  same 
metaphor  is  found  in  ^Eschylus,  Sui)p.  356,  and  is  there  also  scarce  un- 
derstood by  the  critics. 

AtSov  (TV  TTpvixvav  ttoAco?  w5'  ecTTefiix^t^rjv. 

Respect  these  wreaths,  tliat  crown  your  city's  poop. 

V.  99.  Tlie  gilded  hilt  and  pommel.]    The  symbols  of  knighthood. 

V.  100.   The  colu7nn  cloth'd  v:ith  rerrei/.]     The  arms  of  the  Pigli. 

V.  103.  With  them.]  Either  the  Ghiaramontesi,  or  the  Tosinghi,  one  of 
I  which  had  committed  a  fraud  in  measuring  out  the  wheat  from  the  pub- 
ij       lie  granary.     See  Purgatory,  Canto  XII.  99. 

\  V.  109.  The  bullets  of  bhght  gold.]    The  arms  of  the  Abbati,  as  it  ia 

\       conjectured. 

V.  110.  The  sires  of  those.]  "  Of  the  Visdomini,  the  Tosinghi,  and  the 
Cortigiani,  who,  being  sprung  from  the  founders  of  the  bishopric  of  Flor- 


440  NOTKS. 

eiipo,  .arc  the  curators  of  its  rovrnuos,  wliicli  tlioy  do  not  sparp,  wlioiv  | 

ever  it  ijocuiiiois  vacant." 

V.  li:>.  77/'  (•'(■rirrctiiiii/  hi'DMl]  Tlic  Arliiiiari.  'i'liis  family  \\as  so  little 
esteemed,  that  llhertiiio  Poiiato,  who  bad  manied  a  daiij;liter  of  lU'llin- 
cion  IJerti,  himself  indeed  derived  from  tiie  same  stock  (sec;  Note  to  Hell, 
Canto  XVI.  38.)  was  olTended  with  his  father-in-law,  U>v  giving  another 
of  his  daughters  in  mariiage  to  one  of  them. 

V.  r_'l.  The  i/dtcirai/.]  Landino  refers  this  to  the  smallncss  of  the  city: 
Vellutcllo,  witli  less  iirobability,  to  the  simplicity  of  the  people  in  naming 
one  of  the  gates  after  a  private  family. 

V.  127.  T/ic  t/nat  baron.]  The  Marchese  Ugo,  who  resided  at  Florence 
as  lieutenant  (if  tlie  I'Jnperor  Otlio  III.,  gave  many  of  the  chief  fandlies 
licence  to  bear  his  arms.  See  (}.  Villani,  1.  iv.  c.  2.,  wliere  the  vision  is 
related,  in  consequence  of  which  he  sold  all  his  possessions  in  Germany, 
and  founded  seven  abbeys,  in  one  whereof  his  memory  was  celebrated 
at  Flm-ence  on  St.  Thomas's  day. 

V.  l.'U).  One]  Giano  della  Bella,  belonging  to  one  of  the  families  thus 
distinguished,  who  no  longer  retained  his  i)lace  among  the  noliility,  and 
had  y<^t  added  to  his  anas  a  bordure  or.  See  Macchiavelli,  1st.  Fior.  1.  il. 
p.  8(J.  Kdiz.  Giolito. 

V.  132.  Gnaltprotti  dwelt 

And  ImiwrLuni.] 

Two  families  in  the  compartment  of  the  city  called  Borgo. 

V.  135.  The  house.]  Of  Amidei.  See  Notes  to  Canto  XXVIII.  of  Hell, 
V.  102. 

V.  112.  To Ema.]  "It  had  been  well  for  the  city,  if  thy  ancestor  had 
been  drowned  in  the  Ema,  when  he  crossed  that  stream  on  his  way 
from  Montebuono  to  Florence.'' 

V.  144.  On  thai  maim'd  .^tone.]  See  Hell,  Canto  XIII.  144.  Near  the 
remains  of  the  statue  of  iMars,  Buondolmonti  was  slain,  as  if  he  had  been 
a  victim  to  the  god;  and  Florence  had  not  since  Icnown  the  blessing  of 
peace. 

V.  150.  The  lily.]  "  The  arms  of  Florence  had  never  hung  reversed  on 
the  spear  of  her  enemies,  in  token  of  lier  defeat;  nor  beeji  changed  from 
argent  to  gules;"  as  they  afterwards  were,  when  the  Guelfi  gained  the 
predominance.  | 

CANTO  XVli. 

I 

V.  1.  The  yonth.]  Phaeton,  who  came  to  his  mother  Clymene,  to  in- 
quire of  lier'if  he  were  indeed  the  son  of  Apollo.  See  Ovid,  Met.  1.  i.  ad 
linem. 

V.  0.   Tliat  saintly  lamp.]    Cacciaguida.  j 

V.  12.   Toovnilhy  thirst?]     "That  thou  mayst  obtain  from  others  a  ; 

solution  of  any  doubt  that  may  occur  to  thee."  '■_ 

V.  15.  Thou  see.'it  as  clear.]  "  Thou  beholdest  future  events,  with  the 
same  cle.irness  of  evidence,  that  we  discern  the  simplest  mathematical  ; 

demonstrations." 

V.  19.  The  point.]    The  divine  nature.  ; 

V.  27.  The  an-oio?]  m 

Nam  prsevisa  minus  Isedere  tela  solent. 

Ovid. 


PARADISE.  441 

Che  l>i.\£Tfi  antivednta  aspai  men  «1no]e. 

J'ctrarc(i,Trio)ifo  del  Tempo 

T.  38.  Contingeney.']  "The  evidejioe  witli  vJiit-li  we  sec  tlie  future 
pourtrayed  in  tiie  source  of  all  truth,  no  more  necessitates  that  future, 
than  does  the  inia';e,  reflected  in  the  sight  by  a  ship  sailing  down  a 
btreani,  necessitate  the  motion  of  the  vessel." 

V.  43.  Fro7n  thence.]  "  From  the  eternal  sight;  the  view  of  the  Deity 
himself." 

V.  49.  There.]  At  Rome,  where  the  eximlsionof  Dante's  party  from 
Florence  was  then  plotting,  in  1300. 

V.  65.  nieirs.]  "  They  shall  be  ashamed  of  the  part  they  }iave  takeu 
against  thee." 

V.  69.  The  r/reat  Lombard.]  Either  Alberto  della  Scala,  or  Eartolom- 
meo  his  eldest  son.    Their  coat  of  arms  was  a  ladder  and  an  eagle. 

V.  75.  Thai  mortal.]  Can  Grande  della  Scala,  born  under  the  inlluence 
of  Mars,  but  at  this  time  only  nine  years  old. 

V.  80.  The  Gii.von.]    Pope  Clcnieiit  V. 

V.  80.   Great  Harry.]     The  Emperor  Henry  VII. 

V.  127.  The  cry  tfiou  raisest.]  "Thou  shalt  stigmatize  tlie  faults  of 
those  who  are  most  eminent  and  powerful." 

CANTO   XVUl. 

V.  3.  Temp'i'inrj  the  siceet  icith  bitter.] 

Chewing  the  cud  of  sweet  and  bitter  fancy. 

Shakspeare,  As  you  Like  it,  a.  3.  s.  3. 

V.  25.  On  this  fifth  lodgment  of  the  tree.]  Mars,  the  fifth  of  tlie 
heavens.  ' 

V.37.  The  great  Maecabee.]     Judas  Maccabeus. 

V.  39.  Chaiiemagne.]  L.  Pulci  commends  Dante  for  placing  Charle- 
magne and  Orlando  here : 

Jo  mi  confido  ancor  molto  qui  a  Dante,  | 

Che  non  sanza  cagion  nel  ciel  su  misse  ' 

Carlo  ed  Orlando  in  quelle  croci  sante,  i 

Che  come  diligente  intese  e  scrisse.  j 

Morg.  Magg.  c.  28.  I 

V.  43.  William  and  Fenard.]  Probably,  not,  as  the  commentators  have  ,? 
Imagined,  AVilliam  II.  of  Orange,  and  his  kinsman  Kaimband,  two  f)f 
the  crusaders  under  Godfiey  of  Bouillon,  (Maimbourg,  Hist,  des  Croisa- 
dcs,  ed.  Par.  1682.  12mo.  t.  i.  p.  9().)  but  rather  the  two  more  cclebrati'd 
heroes  in  the  age  of  Charlemagne.  The  former,  "William  I.  of  Oiange, 
su])i)osed  to  have  been  the  founder  of  the  present  illustrious  family  of 
that  name,  died  about  808,  according  to  Josejih  de  la  Piser  Tableau  de  I 

I'Hist.  des  Princes  et  Principaute  d'Orange.    Our  countryman,  Ordericus  ■ 

Yitalis,  professes  to  give  his  true  life,  which  had  beeji  misrejiresentcd  in  ; 

the  songs  of  the  itinerant  baids.     "  Vulgo  canitur  a  jocnlatoribus  de  illo  i 

cantilena;  sed  jure  pra/ferenda   est  relatio  authentica.  "     Eccl.  Hist,  in  I 

Duchesne,  Hist.  Norniann.  Scrijt.  p.  508.     The  latter  is  better  known  by 
having  been  celebrated  by  Ariosto,  under  the  name  of  Rinaldo. 

V.  43.  J>iihe  dddfrci/.]     Goilfiev  of  lU)uillon. 

V.  44.  Eoberl  Guist'ard.]     See  Hell,  Canto  XXYIII.  v.  12. 


442  NOTES. 

V.  81.  Tfif  chnrnotrm.']  Diligitn  jnstitirim  qui  jiifliontis  torram. 
"  l.()vo  lijiliteonsuesH,  ye  that  he  judfjes  of  the  eaitli."  Wis(h)ui  of  Solo- 
mon, f.  i.  1. 

V.  11(1.  Thai  (mcc  more. ^  "That  lie  may  a^aiu  drive  out  those  who 
biiv  and  sell  in  the  teini)le. " 

V.  124.  Tii.ki>iii  Ihr  hrcmi  (diun/.]  "  Exconiuiuuication,  or  tlic  interdic- 
tion of  the  cuiliarist,  is  now  employed  as  a  \veai)on  of  warfare." 

V.  12()  T/iat  hu-ilcM  hut  to  etoir'cl.]  "  And  thou,  Pope  Boniface,  who 
writest  tliy  ecclesiastical  censures  for  no  other  puriiose  than  to  be  paid 
for  re\  okini;  them." 

V.  loO.  7'o  him.]  Tl)e  coin  of  Florence  was  stamped  with  the  impres- 
eiou  of  John  the  Baptist. 


CANTO  XIX. 

V.  38.  TT7io  turn'd  his  compass.]  Compare  Proverbs,  c.  viii.  27.  and 
Milton,  P.  L.  b.  vii.  224. 

V.  42.  The  Word.]  "  The  divine  nature  still  remained  incom])rehen- 
Bible.  Of  this  Lucifer  was  a  i)roof;  for  had  lie  thoro uglily  comprehended 
it,  lie  would  not  have  fallen." 

V.  108.   77ie  Ethiop.]     ftlatt.  c.  xii.  41. 

V.  112.  Tliat  volume.]     Rev.  c.  xx.  12. 

V.  114.  Albert.]    Purgatory,  Canto  VI.  v.  98. 

V.  IIG.  Prague.]  The  eagle  predicts  the  devastation  of  Bohemia  by 
Albert,  which  happened  soon  after  this  time,  when  that  Emjieror  ob- 
tained tlie  kingdom  for  his  eldest  son  Rodolph.  See  Coxe's  House  of 
Austria,  4to.  ed.  v.  i.  part  1.  p.  87. 

v.  117.  H<\]  Philip  IV.  of  France,  after  the  battle  of  Courtrai,  1302,  in 
which  the  French  were  defeated  by  the  Flemings,  raised  the  nominal 
value  of  the  coin.  This  king  died  in  consequence  of  his  horse  being 
thrown  to  the  ground  by  a  wild  boar,  in  1314. 

v.  121.  The  English  and  Scot.]  He  adverts  to  the  disjuites  between 
John  Baliol  and  Edward  I.,  the  latter  of  whom  is  commended  in  the  Pur- 
gatory, Canto  VII.  v.  1.30. 

V.  122.  The  Spaniard's  luxury.]  The  commentators  refer  this  to  Alonzo 
X.  of  Si)aiu.  It  seems  probable  that  the  allusion  is  to  Ferdinand  IV. 
■who  came  to  the  crown  in  12115,  and  died  in  1312,  at  the  age  of  twenty- 
four,  in  consequence,  as  it  was  supposed,  of  his  extreme  intemperance. 
See  Mariana,  Hist.  1.  xv.  c.  11. 

V.  123.  The  Bohemian.]  Wiuceslaus  II.  Purgatory,  Canto  VII.  v. 
99. 

V.  125.  The  halter  of  Jerusalem.]  Charles  II.  of  Naples  and  Jerusalem, 
who  was  lame.     See  note  to  Purgatory,  Canto  VII.  v.  122,  and  XX.  v.  78. 

v.  127.  He.]  Frederick  of  Sicily,  son  of  Peter  III.  of  Arragon.  Pur- 
gatory, Canto  VII.  v.  117.  The  isle  of  fire  is  Sicily,  where  was  the  tomb 
of  Auchises. 

V.  133.  His  uncle.]  James,  king  of  Majorca  and  Minorca,  brother  to 
Peter  III. 

V.  133.  His  brother.]  James  II.  of  Arragon,  who  died  in  1327.  See 
Purgatory,  Canto  VII.  v.  117. 

V.  135.  0/  Portugal.]  In  the  time  of  Dante,  Dionysius  was  king  of 
Portugal.  He  died  in  1328,  after  a  reign  of  near  forty-six  years,  and  does 
not  seem  to  have  deserved  the  stigma  here  fastened  on  him.    See  Mari- 


rARADTRii;,  443 

aiifi,  1.  XV.  c.  IS.    Pprliaps  tho  roliollious  son  of  Dionvsiiis  niny  ho  allndod 
to. 

V.  loG.  Noi'i'xn/.]  Hiiquiii,  liiiit^  of  Norw.iy.  is  jn'obiilily  meant:  who, 
having  given  refuge  to  the  umrderer.s  of  Eric  VII.  liing  of  Deninarlc.  A  n. 
1288,  commenced  a  war  again.':t  liis  successor,  EricVlil.,  "  wliich  con- 
tinued for  nine  years,  almost  to  the  utter  ruiii  and  destruction  of  both 
kingdoms."     Modern  Univ.  Hist.  v.  xxxii.  p.  215. 

V.  13().  Him 

OfRafy.a.] 
One  of  the  dynasty  of  tlie  house  of  Nemagna,  whicli  ruled  the  kingdom 
of  Rassia,  or  Ratza,  in  Sclavonia,  from  1161  to  1371,  and  whose  history 
may  be  found  in  Mauro  Orbiiio,  Regno  degli  Slavi,  Ediz.  Pesaro.  1601. 
Uladislaus  appears  to  have  been  the  sovereign  in  Dante's  time;  but  the 
disgraceful  forgery  adverted  to  iu  the  text,  is  not  I'ecorded  by  the  his- 
torian. 

v.  138.  Hungary.']  The  kingdom  of  Hungary  was  about  this  time  dis- 
puted by  Carobert,  son  of  Charles  Martel,  and  Winceslaus,  prince  of 
Bohemia,  son  of  Winceslaus  H.  See  Coxe's  House  of  Austria,  vol.  i.  p. 
1.  p.  86.  4to  edit. 

V.  140.  Navarre.']  Navarre  was  now  under  the  yoke  of  France.  It 
Boon  after  (in  1328)  followed  the  advice  of  Dante  and  had  a  mouarch  of 
its  own.     Mariana,  1.  xv.  c.  19. 

V.  141.  Mountainovs  girdle.]    The  Pyrenees. 

V.  143.  Famagosta's  streets 

And  Nicosia's,] 
Cities  hi  the  kingdom  of  Cyprus,  at  that  time  ruled  by  Henry  TT.  a  pusil- 
lanimous prince,  Vertot.  Hist,  des  Chev.  de  Malte,  1.  iii.  iv.  Tlie  mean- 
ing appears  to  be,  that  the  complaints  made  by  those  cities  of  their  weak 
and  worthless  governor,  may  be  regarded  as  au  earnest  of  his  coudemna- 
tiou  at  the  last  doom. 


CANTO    XX. 

V.  6.  'WJierein  one  shines.]  The  light  of  the  sun,  whence  he  supposes 
the  other  celestial  bodies  to  derive  their  light. 

V.  8.   The  great  sign.]    The  eagle,  the  Imperial  ensign. 

V.  34.    Who.]     David. 

V.  39.  He.]    Trajan.     See  Purgatory,  Canto  X.  68. 

V.  44.  He  7iext.]     Hezekiah. 

V.  50.  'FJie  other  folloiv in g.]  Constantiue.  There  is  no  passage  in  which 
Dante's  opinion  of  the  evil,  that  had  arisen  from  the  mixture  of  the  civil 
with  the  ecclesiastical  }>ower,  is  more  unequivocally  declared. 

V.  57.  William.]  William  II.  king  of  Sicily,  at  the  latter  part  of  the 
twelfth  century.  He  was  of  the  Norman  line  of  so\ereigns,  and  obtained 
the  appellation  of  "the  Good;"  and,  as  tlie  poet  says,  his  loss  was  as 
much  the  subject  of  regret  in  his  dominions,  as  the  presence  of  Charles 
II.  of  Anjou,  and  Frederick  of  Arragon,  was  of  sorrow  and  complaint. 

V.  62.  Trojan  Riphevs.] 

Ripheus,  justissimus  uiius 
Qui  fuit  in  Teuciis,  at  servantissimus  jequi. 

'Firg.  yEn.  I.  ii.  427, 

▼.  97.  This.]    Ripheus. 


-"^ 


444  NOTKR. 

V.  Its.   T/ifit.]     Trajan. 

V.  10.!.   77ic  i>raf/<rs.\     Tim  i)rnyoi's  of  8t.  Grofjory. 
V.  1]<I.   77/r  t/iirc  ■iitpDjihs.]     Faitli,  Il(ii»e,  and  Cliarity.     Purgatory, 
Canto  XXIX.  11(1. 
V.  138.  The  pair.']    Itiiiheus  and  Trajan. 

CANTO    XXI. 

V.  12.  Tlte  .trrmth  f^plonlovr.]    Tlie  jilanet  Saturn. 

V.  i;5.   The  hitrviiifi  lion's  breast.]    The  constellation  Leo. 

V.  21.  In  eqnalhfildvcc]     "  ]\Iy  i)leasure  was  as  great  in  complying 
with  lier  will,  as  in  l)eliolding  licr  countenance." 

V.  24.  Of  tliatlov\l  momireli.]     Saturn.     Compare  Hell,  Canto  XIV. 
91. 

V.  56.   What  forbade  the  smile.]     "Because  it  would  have  overcome 
thee." 

V.  61.  Tliere  aloft.]     Where  the  other  souls  were. 

V.  97.  A  stony  ridc/e.]    The  Apennine. 

V.  112.  Pietro  Damiano.]  "  S.  Pietro  Damiano  obtained  a  great  and 
well-merited  reputation,  by  the  pains  he  took  to  coi'rcct  the  abuses 
among  the  clergy.  Ravenna  is  supjiosed  to  have  been  the  place  of  his 
birth,  about  1007.  He  was  em])loyed  in  several  important  missions,  and 
rewarded  by  Stephen  IX.  with  the  dignity  of  cardinal,  and  the  bisliopric 
of  Cstia,  to  which,  however,  he  j)rel'erred  his  former  retreat  in  the  mon-  j 
astery  of  Fonte  Avellana,  and  prevailed  on  Alexander  II.  to  ])crmit  him  = 

to  retire  thither.  Yet  he  did  not  long  continue  in  this  seclusion,  before  ; 
he  was  sent  on  other  embassies.  He  died  at  Faenza  in  1072.  His  letters  ;. 
throw  much  light  on  the  obscure  history  of  these  times.     Besides  them,  '! 

he  has  left  several  treatises  on  sacred  and  ecclesiastical  subjects.  His  > 
eloquence  is  worthy  of  a  better  age."  Tiraboschi,  Storia  dclla  Lett.  Ital.  ' 
t.  iii.  1.  iv.  c.  2. 

V.  114.  Be.nde  the  Adriatic]     At  Rnvenna.     Some  editions  have  fii,         : 
instead  oifni;  according  to  wliich  reading,  Pietro  distinguishes  himself 
from  another  Pietro,  who  was  termed  "Peccator,"  the  sinner. 

V.  117.    The  hnt.]     The  cardinal's  hat.  ; 

V.  lis.  Cephas.]     St.  Peter.  i 

\.1V.l   The  Holy  Spirit's  vessel.     St.  Paul.     See  Hell,  Canto  IL  30.  5 

V.  130.  Round  this.]    Round  the  spirit  of  Pietro  Damiano.  f 


CANTO  XXII. 

V.  14.  The  vengeance.]  Beatrice,  it  is  supposed,  intimates  the  ap- 
proaching fate  of  Boniface  VIH.     See  Purgatory,  Canto  XX.  86. 

V.  'Ml  Cassino.]     A  castle  in  tlie  Terra  di  Lavoro. 

V.  38.  I  it  icas.]  "A  new  order  of  monks,  which  in  a  manner  ab- 
gorbed  all  the  others  that  were  established  in  the  west,  was  instituted 
A.  D.  529,  by  Benedict  of  Nursia,  a  man  of  piety  and  reputation  lor  the 
age  he  lived  in."  Maclaiue's  Mosheim,  Eccles.  Hist.  v.  ii.  cent.  vi.  p.  2. 
cii.  2.  §  6. 

V.  48.  3faea7'ins.]  There  are  two  of  this  name  enumerated  by  ^losheim 
among  the  Greek  theologians  of  the  fourth  century,  v.  i.  cent.  iv.  y.  11. 
c.  2.  §  9.     In  the  following  chapter,  §  10.  it  is  said,  "  Macarius,  an  I'.g.v]*- 


PARADISE.  445 

tian  monlc,  uiidonlitcdly  deserves  tlie  first  rank  among  the  practical 
writers  of  tliis  time,  as  liis  works  displayed,  some  few  tilings  excepted, 
the  liriglitest  and  m(«t  lovely  portraiture  of  sanctity  and  virtue  " 

V.  48.  liomoaldo.l     S-  Romoaldo,  a  native  of  Ravenna,  and  the  foun- 
der of  the  order  of  Camaldoli,  died  in  1027.    lie  was  the  author  of  a  coiu- 
luentary  on  the  Psalms. 
V.  70.   The  patriarch  Jacob.']     So  Milton,  P.  L.  b.  iii.  510  : 
The  stairs  were  such,  as  whereon  Jacob  saw 
Angels  ascending  and  descending,  bauds 
Of  guardians  bright. 
V.  107.  Tliesign.']    The  constellation  of  Gemini. 
V.  130.  This  globe.]     So  Chaucer,  Troilus  and  Cresseide,  b.  v. 

And  down  from  thence  fast  he  gan  avise 
This  little  spot  of  earth,  that  with  the  sea 
Embraced  is,  and  full^'  gau  despise 
This  wretched  world . 

Compare  Cicero,  Somn.  Scip.  "  Jam  ipsa  terra  ita  niihi  parva  visa  est," 
&c.     Lucan,  Phars.  1.  ix.  11;  and  Tasso,  G.  L.  c.  xiv.  st.  9,  10,  11. 
V.  140.  Muiaand  Dione.]    The  planets  Mercury  and  Venus. 

CANTO  XXIII. 

V.  11.  Tlh  it  region.]  Towards  the  south,  where  the  course  of  the  suu 
appears  lesr«  rapid,  than  when  he  is  in  the  east  or  tlie  west. 

V.  25.  Tricia.]     A  name  of  Diana. 

V,  26.  Til'  etniial  mimphs.]    The  stars. 

V.  3().  Tlic  Might.]    'Our  Saviour. 

V.  71.  Tlie  rose.]    The  Virgin  Mary. 

V.  73.   The  lilies.]    The  apostles. 

V.  84.  Thou  didst  exalt  thy  glory.]  The  divine  light  retired  upwards, 
to  render  the  eyes  of  Dante  more  capable  of  enduring  the  spectacle  which 
now  presented  itself. 

V.  85.  Tlie  name 

Of  thai  fa  ir  flower.  ] 
The  name  of  the  Virgin. 

V.  92.  A  cresset.]     The  angel  Gabriel. 

V.  98.  That  lyre.]     By  synecdoche,  the  lyre  is  put  for  the  angel. 

V.  99.   The  goodliest  sapphire.]    The  Virgin. 

V.  12(5.  Those  rich-laden  cogens.]  Those  spirits,  who,  having  sown  the 
eeed  of  good  works  on  earth,  now  contain  the  fruit  of  their  pious  endea- 
vours. 

V.  129.  In  the  Babylonian  exile.]    During  their  abode  in  this  world. 

V.  133.  He.]  St.  Peter,  with  the  other  holy  men  of  the  Old  and  New 
Testament. 

CANTO  XXIV. 

V.  28.  Sneh  folds.]    Pindar  has  the  same  bold  image: 

VIJ.VMV   TTTUX'ai?.         O.    1.    170. 

On  which  Heyuc  strangely  remarks;  "Ad  ambitus  stropharum  videtur 
ei)ectare." 


446  NOTES.  I 

V.  05.  Faith.]    Hebrews,  c.  xi.  1.    So  Mariuo,  in  one  of  liia  sonnets,  ! 
which  he  calls  Divozioni: 

Fcclc  e  siist;ui7.a  di  sperate  cose,  j 

E  dellc  lion  visibili  argoniento.  t 

V.  82.  Cw-rait.]     "The  an.'^wcr  tliou  hast  made  is  right:  hut  let  nie 

know  if  thy  inward  i)crsuasi<>ii  is  confoniiahle  to  thy  protcssion.''  j 

V. '.)!.   T/ic  (inci(  lit  bond  aixl  new.]     The  Old  and  Kew  Testaincnt.  I 

V.  114.   That  Worthy.]     Quel  Baron.  \ 

In  the  next  Canto,  St.  Jaiue.s  i.s  called  "  Baroiie."     So  in  Boccaccio,  G. 

vi.  N.  10,  we  find  "  Baron  ISIesser  Santo  Antonio."  ^ 

V.  124.  Ai<  to  outstrip.]     Venturi  insists  that  tlie  Poet  lias  here  "  made  ' 

n  slip;  "  for  that  John  came  liivst  to  the  se])ulchre,  thougli  Peter  was  the  ! 

first  to  enter  it.    But  let  Dante  liave  leave  to  exjjlain  his  own  lueaniiiL;, 

in  a  passage  from  his  third  book  De  Monarchia  :  "  Dicit  ctiani  Joliaiuu^s  > 

ipsum   (scilicet  Petrum)  iutroiisse  subito,  cum  venit  in  monuiuentuui,  ; 

videns  alium  discipulum  cuuctautem  ad  ostium."    Opere  di  Dante,  Yen.  • 

1793.t.ii.p.l46.  ; 

i 

CANTO  XXV.  j 

V.  6.  TJie  fair  sheep-fold.]    Florence,  whence  he  was  banished.  ' 

V.  13.  For  its  sake.]     For  the  sake  of  that  faith .  i 

V.  20.  Galicia  throng' d  luith  visitants.]    See  Mariana,  Hist.  1.  xi.  c.  1.3.  I 

"En  el  tiem])o,"  &c.     "At  the  time  that  the  sepulchre  of  the  a]H).><tie  j 

St.  James  was  discovered,  the  devotion  for  that  place  extended  itself  not  I 

only  over  all   Spain,  but  even  round  about  to  foreign  nations.     Multi-  I 

tudes  from  all  jiarts  of  the  world  came  to  visit  it.     Many  others  were  d&-  I 

terred  by  the  difficulty  of  the  journey,  by  the  roughness  and  barrenness 
of  those  jiarts,  and  by  the  incursions  of  the  Moors,  who  made  captives  j 

many  of  the  pilgrims.    The  canons  of  St.  Eloy  afterwards  (the  precise  time  1 

is  not  known),  with  a  desire  of  remedying  these  evils,  built,  in  many 
places,  along  tlie  whole  road,  which  reached  as  far  as  to  France,  hospitals 
for  the  reception  of  the  pilgrims."  i 

v.  31.   Who.]    Tlie  Epistle  of  St.  James  is  here  attributed  to  the  elder  • 

apostle  of  that  name,  whose  shrine  was  at  Compostella,  in  Galicia. 
Which  of  the  two  was  the  author  of  it,  is  yet  doubtful.  The  learned  and 
candid  Michaelis  contends  very  forcibly  for  its  having  been  written  by 
James  the  Elder.  Lardner  rejects  that  opinion  as  absurd:  while  Ben.son 
argues  against  it,  but  is  well  answered  by  Michaelis,  who,  after  all,  is 
obliged  to  leave  the  question  undecided.  See  his  Introduction  to  the 
New  Testament,  translated  by  Dr.  Marsh,  ed.  Cambridge,  1T'J3.  v.  iv.  c. 
2t3.  §  1,  2,  3. 

V.  35.  As  Jesiis.]    In  the  transfiguration  on  Mount  Tabor. 

V.  39.  The  second  flame.]     St.  James. 

y.  iO.  I  lifted  lip.]  "I  will  lift  up  mine  eyes  unto  the  hills,  from 
whence  cometh  my  help."     Ps.  cxxi.  1. 

V.  59.  From  Er/ypt  to  Jcrtisalem.]    From  the  lower  world  to  heaven. 

V.  67.  Hope.]  This  is  from  the  Sentences  of  Petrus  Lombardus.  "  Est 
antem  spes  virtus,  qua  spiritualia  et  a'terna  bona  sperantur,  id  est,  cum 
fidacia  cxpectantui-.  Est  eiiiin  spes  certa  expectatio  futur.'e  beatitudinis, 
veniens  ex  Dei  gratia  et  ex  ineritis  prrecedeiitibtis  vel  ipsarn  speiii,  quam 
n.ntura  pra-it  charitas  ut  rem  speratam,  id  est,  beatitudineiii  a'ternain. 
Sine  ineritis  eiiiiii  aliquid  sperare  noii  spes,  sed  pi;csuiiiptio,  dici  potest." 
Pet.  Lomb.  Sent.  1.  iii.  dist.  2(J.  ed.  Bas.  14a6.  fol. 


PARADISE.  447 

V  74.  His  anihcm.']    Psalm  ix.  10. 

V.  90.  7.sr/(V/.s.]     Chap.  Ixi.  10. 

V.  94.   Thy  brother.]     St.  Juliii  in  tlie  Rc\  elation,  c.  vii.  9. 

V.  101.  Wiiilcr's  7nonth.]  "If  a  hnuinaiy,  like  that  wliicli  now  ap- 
peared, were  to  sliiue  throughout  the  month  following  the  \^  inter  solstice, 
during  which  the  constellatiou  Cancer  appears  in  the  east  at  the  setting 
of  the  sun,  there  would  be  no  interruption  to  the  light,  but  the  whole 
month  would  be  as  a  single  day." 

V.  1112.  This.]  St.  John,  who  reclined  on  the  bosom  of  our  Saviour, 
and  to  whose  cliarge  Jesus  recommended  his  mother. 

V.  121.  jSo  I.]  He  looked  so  earnestly,  to  descry  whether  St.  John 
were  present  there  in  body,  or  in  spirit  only  ;  having  had  his  doubts 
raised  by  that  saying  of  our  Saviour's:  "If  I  will,  that  lie  tarry  till  I 
come,  what  is  that  to  thee?  " 

V.  127.  17ie  tii'o.]  Christ  and  Mary,  whom  he  has  described,  iu  the 
last  Canto  but  one,  as  rising  above  his  sight. 

CANTO  XXVI. 

V.  2.   The  beccnnj  flame.]     St.  John. 

V.  13.  Ananias'  hand.]  Who,  by  putting  his  hand  on  St.  Paul,  restored 
his  sight.     Acts,  c.  ix.  17. 

V.  36.  From  him.]  Some  suppose  that  Plato  is  here  meant,  who,  in  his 
Banquet,  makes  Pha'driis  say:  "  Love  is  confessedly  amongst  the  eldest 
of  beings;  and,  being  the  eldest,  is  the  cause  to  us  of  the  greatest  goods." 
Plat.  Op.  t.  X.  p.  177.  Bip.  ed.  Others  have  understood  it  of  Aristotle, 
and  others,  of  the  writer  who  goes  by  the  name  of  Dionysius  the  Areo- 
pagite,  referred  to  iji  the  twenty-eighth  Canto. 

y.  40.  I  vn'll  make.]    Exodus,  c.  xxxiii.  19. 

V.  42.  At  the  otitset.]    John,  c.  i.  1.  &c. 

V.  51.  The  eaf/le  of  our  Lord.]     St.  John. 

T.  62.    The  leaves.]     Created  beings. 

V.  82.   Theflrst  livinr/ sonl.]     Adam. 

V.  107.  Parhelion.]  Who  enlightens  and  comin-ehends  all  things;  but 
is  himself  enligliteued  and  comprehended  by  ncjne. 

v.  117.  Whejice.]  Tliat  is,  from  Limbo.  See  Hell,  Canto  II.  53.  Adam 
pays  that  5232  years  elapsed  from  his  creation  to  the  time  of  his  deliver- 
ance, which  followed  the  death  of  Christ. 

V.  133.  El.]  Some  read  Vn,  "  One,"  instead  of  El :  but  the  latter  of 
these  readings  is  confirmed  by  a  passage  from  Dante's  Treatise  De  Yulg. 
Eloq.  1.  i.  cap.  4.  "  Quod  prius  vox  primi  loqueutis  souaverit,  viro  san;i' 
mentis  in  jiromptu  esse  non  dubito  ipsum  fuisse  quod  Deus  est,  videlicet 
Kl."  St.  Isidore  in  the  Origiues,  I.  vii.  c.  1.  had  said,  "  Primum  apud 
Hebr.Tos  Dei  nomen  El  dicitur." 

V.  135.  Use.]     From  Horace,  Ars.  Poet.  62. 

V.  138.  All  my  life.]  "  I  remained  in  the  terrestrial  Paradise  only  to 
the  seventh  hour."  In  the  Historia  Scolastica  of  Petrus  Comestor,  it  is 
said  of  our  first  parents  :  Quidam  tradunt  eos  fuisse  in  Paradise  septeni 
boras."  t.  9.  ed.  Par.  1513.  4to. 

CANTO  XXVII.. 
V.  10.  Four  torches.]    St.  Peter,  St.  James,  St.  John,  and  Adam. 


418  NOTES. 

V.  11.   Th'it.]     St.  Pctor,  wlio  l(ii)kofl  :is  tlio  planet  Jupiter  would,  if  it 
assumed  the  siuiLMiiiic  :ip|)o;iniiico  ol  Mars 
V.  20.  lie]     Bi)iiifaL-c  VIII. 
V.  25.  Hack  colour.] 

Qui  color  infectis  adversi  solis  ub  ictu 
Nubibiis  esse  solet;  aut  purpuroie  Aiironc. 

Ovid,  Met.  1.  iii.  184.  ; 

V.  37.  Of  Linus  and   of  Clelus.]     Bishops  of  Rome  in  the  first  cen- 
tury. 

V.  40.  Did  Se.xtus,  Pius,  and  Callixtus  bleed, 
And  I'vhan.] 
The  former  two,  hisltops  of  the  same  see,  in  the  second;  aiid  the  otlicrs, 
in  the  fourth  century.  , 

V.  42.  Xo  pnrpose  icasoforirs.]  "  We  did  not  intend  that  our  succcs-  ; 
Bors  should  take  any  part  in  the  political  divisions  anions  Cliristiaiis;  or  > 
that  my  liuuro  (tlie  seal  of  St.  Peter)  should  serve  as  a  mark  to  authorise  ' 
ini(luitous  L;raiiis  and  privilctccs." 

V.  51.    Wolocs.]     Compare  Milton,  P.  L.  b.  xii.  508,  &c. 

V.  5;?.  Calwrshira  and  Gascons.]  He  alludes  to  ,Iac(p\os  d'Ossa,  a  na-  \ 
tivo  of  Cahors,  who  filled  the  i)ai)al  chair  in  loKi,  after  it  luid  been  two  \ 
years  vacant,  and  assumed  the  name  of  .John  XXII.,  and  to  Clement  V.,  I 
a  Gascon,  of  whom  see  Hell,  Canto  XIX.  8(i,  and  Xote.  i 

V.  ()3.   The  she-rioat.]     When  the  sun  is  in  Capricorn.  j 

V.  72.  From  tlic  hour.]  Since  he  had  last  looked  (see  Canto  XXII.),  1 
he  perceived  that  he  had  passed  from  tlie  meridian  circle  to  the  eastern  j 
horizon,  the  half  of  our  hemisphere,  and  a  rpiarter  of  the  he.aven.  • 

V.  7(5.  From  Gades.]     See  Hell,  Canto  XXVI.  106. 

V.  78.   The  shore.]    Phcunicia,  where  Europa,  the  daughter  of  Agcnor, 
mounted  on  the  back  of  Jupiter,  in  his  shajie  of  a  bull.  ' 

V.  80.  The  sun.]  Dante  was  in  the  constellation  Gemini,  and  the  sun  1 
in  Aries.  There  was,  therefore,  part  of  those  two  con.stellations,  and  the  | 
whole  of  Taurus,  between  them. 

V.  93.  The  fair  nest  of  Leda.]     "From  the  Gemini; "  thus  called,  be- 
cause Leda  was  the  mother  of  the  twins,  Castor  and  Pollu.v. 

V.  112.  Time's  roots.]     "Hero,"  says  Beatrice,  "are  the  roots,  from 
whence  time  springs:  for  the  parts,  into   which  it  is  di\ided,  tlie  other     j 
heavens  must  be  considered."    And  she  then  breaks  out  into  an  excia-     i 
mation  on  the  degeneracy  of  human  nature,  which  does  not  lift  itself  to     t 
the  contemplation  of  divine  things.  ' 

V.  126.  The  fair  child  of  him.]     So  she  calls  human  nature.     Pindar, 
by  a  more  easy  figure,  terms  the  day,  "  child  of  the  sun : " 

'Afiepav 
naiO  'AAiou.  01.  ii.  .59. 

V.  129.  None.]  Because,  as  has  been  before  said,  the  shepherds  are  ■ 
become  wolves. 

V.  131.  Before  the  date .]     "Before  many  ages  are  past;  before  those  ' 

fractions,  which  are  dropt  in  the  reckoning  of  every  year,  shall  amount  ; 

to  so  large  a  portion  of  time,  that  January  shall  be  no  moie  a  winter  j 

month."     By  this  iieriphrasis  is  meant  "  in  a  short  time;  "as  wc  say  i 

familiarly,  such  a  thing  will  hai>|ien  before  a  thousand  years  are  over,  j 

when  we  mean,  it  will  haiiiicn  soon.  f 

V.  135.   Fortune  shall  bo  fain.]     The  commentators,  in  general,  siip- 
IHJse  that  our  Poet  here  augurs  that  great  reform,  whicli  he  vainly  hoped 


-=-^-^^"wrai  1 1 


rAKADlSE.  449 

would  follow  on  the  arrival  of  the  Emperor  Henry  VII.  in  Italy.  Lom- 
bardi  refers  the  ijrognostication  to  Can  Grande  della  Scala  :  and,  when 
we  consider  thai  tliis  Canto  was  not  finished  till  after  the  deatli  of  Henry, 
as  appears  from  the  mention  tliat  is  made  of  John  XXII..  it  cannot  ba 
denied  but  the  conjecture  is  probable. 


CANTO  XXVIII. 

V.  36.  Ileav' 71,  and  all  nature,  hangs  npon  tliat  point.']  ««  Toeou'iTjs  apa 
"PX'Js  WTiTai  6  oiipaj'bs  (cai  ij  (^ucris.  Aristot.  Metapli .  1.  xii.  c.  7.  "From 
that  beginning  depend  heaven  and  nature." 

V.  43.  Such  diff'rencc.'}  Tlie  material  world  and  the  intelligential 
(the  copy  and  the  pattern)  appear  to  Dante  to  differ  in  tins  respect,  tliat 
the  orbits  of  the  latter  are  more  swift,  the  nearer  they  are  to  the  centre, 
whereas  the  contrary  is  the  case  with  the  orbits  of  the  former.  Tlie  seeming 
contradiction  is  thus  accounted  for  by  Beatrice.  In  the  material  world, 
the  more  ami)le  the  body  is,  the  greater  is  the  good  of  which  it  is 
capable,  supposing  all  the  parts  to  be  equally  perfect.  But  in  the  iiiteb 
ligeutial  world,  the  circles  are  more  excellent  and  powerful,  the  more 
they  ajjproximate  to  the  central  point,  which  is  God.  Thus  the  fii'st 
circle,  that  of  the  seraphim,  corresponds  to  the  ninth  sphere,  or  primum 
mobile;  the  second,  that  of  the  cherubim,  to  the  eighth  sphere,  or  heaven 
of  fixed  stars;  the  third,  or  circle  of  thrones,  to  the  seventh  sphere,  or 
planet  of  Satu'-n ;  and  in  like  manner  throughout  the  two  other  trines  of 
circles  and  spheres. 

In  orbs 
Of  circuit  inexpressible  they  stood, 
Orb  within  orb. 

3mton,  P.  L.  b.  V.  596. 

V.  70.    Tliestiirdij  north.']     Compare  Homer,  II.  b.  v.  524. 

V.  82.  In  number.]  The  sparkles  exceeded  the  number  which  would 
be  produced  by  the  sixty-four  squares  of  a  chess-board,  if  for  the  first 
we  reckoned  one;  for  the  next,  two;  for  the  third,  four;  and  so  went  on 
doubling  to  the  end  of  the  account. 

V.  106.  Fearless  of  bnimnr/ from  the  nif/htly  ram.]  Not  injured,  like 
the  productions  of  our  spring,  by  the  influence  of  autumn,  when  the  con- 
Btellation  Aries  rises  at  sunset. 

V.  110.  Do7niiiations.] 

Hear  all  ye  angels,  progeny  of  light, 

Thrones,  dominations,  princedoms,  virtues,  powers. 

31ilton,  P.L.h.  v.  601. 

V.  119.  Dionysius.]  The  Areopagite,  in  his  book  De  Ccelesti  Hier- 
archia. 

V.  124.  Gregory.]  Gregory  the  Great.  "Novem  vero  angelorum 
ordines  dixinuis;  quia  videlicet  esse,  testante  sacro  eloquio,  scimus: 
Augelos,  archangelos,  virtutes,  potestates,  principatus,  dominationos, 
thronos,  cherubin  atque  seraphin."  Divi  Gregorii,  Horn,  xxxiv.  f.  125. 
ed.  Par.  1518.  fol. 

V.  126.  He  had  learnt.]  Dionysius,  he  says,  had  learnt  from  St.  Paul. 
It  is  almost  unnecessary  to  add,  that  the  book,  above  referred  to,  which 
goes  under  his  name,  was  the  production  of  a  later  age. 

29 


t 


450  NOTES. 

CANTO  XXIX. 

V.  1.  No  lon.ffer.']    As  short  a  space,  as  tho  sun  and  moon  are  in  cliang- 

inj;  licmisplicros,  when  tliey  arc  opposite  to  one  anotlier,  the  one  under 
the  sij,'n  of  Aries,  iuul  the  other  under  that  of  Lihni,  and  both  han^  for  a 
nioniont,  jjoised  as  it  were  in  tlie  liand  of  the  zenith. 

V.  122.  /b?",  luit  ill  process  of  before  or  aft.]  Tlicre  was  neitlicr  "  before 
nor  after,"  no  distinction,  tliat  is,  of  time,  till  the  creation  of  the  woi'ld. 

V.  oO.  His  threefold  operation.]  He  seems  to  mean  that  spiritual 
beings,  brute  matter,  and  the  intermediate  part  of  the  creation,  which 
participates  b(jth  of  spirit  and  matter,  were  |)rodiiccd  at  once. 

V.  ;W.  On  Jerome's  ;)«,7c.v.]  St.  Jerome  had  described  the  an.t;els  as 
created  beforc  the  rest  of  the  universe:  an  opinion  whii'h  'I'liomas 
Aquinas  controverted;  and  the  latter,  as  Dante  thiidis,  had  Scriiituro  on 
his  side.  | 

V.  57.  Pent]    See  Hell,  Canto  XXXIV.  105. 

V.  111.  Of  Hindi  and  of  Lapi.]    Coramou  names  of  men  at  Florence. 

V.  112.  27ie  shcejx]     So  Milton,  Lycidas.  j 

The  hungry  sheep  look  up  and  are  not  fed, 

But,  swoln  with  wind  and  the  rank  mist  they  draw, 

Rot  inwardly. 

V.  121.  The  preacher."]    Thus  Cowper,  Task,  b.  ii. 

'Tis  pitiful 
To  court  a  grin,  when  you  should  woo  a  soul,  &c. 

V.  131.  Scant  Anthomj 

Fattens  loith  this  his  sivine.] 

On  the  sale  of  these  blessings,  the  brothers  of  St.  Anthony  snpi)orted 
themselves  and  their  paramours.  From  behind  the  swine  of  St.  Anthony, 
our  Poet  levels  a  blow  at  the  object  of  his  inveterate  enmity,  Boniface 
VIII.,  from  whom,  "in  1297,  they  obtained  the  dignity  and  privileges  of 
an  indejiendeut  congregation."  See  Mosheim's  Eccles.  History  in  Dr. 
Maclaine's  Translation,  v.  ii.  cent.  xi.  p.  2.  c.  2.  §  28. 

V.  140.  Daniel.]  "  Thousand  thousands  ministered  unto  him,  and  ten 
thousand  times  ten  thousand  stood  before  him."    Dan   c.  vii.  10. 


CANTO  XXX. 

V.  1.  Six  thousand  miles.]    He  compares  the  vanishing  of  the  vision  to 

the  fading  away  of  the  stars  at  dawn,  when  it  is  noon-day  .six  thousand  J 

miles  off,  and  the  shadow,  formed  by  the  earth  over  the  part  of  it  in-  j 

habited  by  the  Poet,  is  about  to  disappear.  ] 

V.  13.  Engirt.]    "  Appearing  to  be  encompassed  by  these  angelic  bands,  | 

which  are  in  reality  encomi)assed  by  it.''  i 

V.  18.  This  turn.]    Questa  vice.  j 

Hence  perhaps  Milton,  P.  L.  b.  viii.  491.  I 


This  turn  hath  made  amends. 

V.  39.  Forth.]    From  the  ninth  sphere  to  the  empyrean,  wliich  i«  mere 
light. 


PARADISE.  451 

V.  44.  Either  mujhly  host.']  Of  angels,  that  remained  faithful,  and  of 
beatified  souls;  the  latter  iu  that  form  which  they  will  have  at  the  last 
day. 

V.  Gl.  Light  flounnr/.]  "  And  he  shewed  me  a  pure  river  of  water  of 
life,  clear  as  crystal,  proceeding  out  of  the  throne  of  God  and  of  the 
Lamb."    Rev.  c.  xxii.  1. 

underneath  a  bright  sea  flow'd 

Of  jasper,  or  of  liquid  pearl. 

Milton,  P.  L.  b.  iii.  518, 

V.  80.  Shadoivy  of  the  truth.] 

Son  di  lor  vero  ombriferi  prefazii. 

So  Mr.  Coleridge,  iu  his  Religious  Musings,  v.  40G. 

Life  is  a  vision  shadowy  of  truth. 

V.  88.  the  eves 

Of  mine  eyelids.] 

Thus  Shakspeare   calls   the  eyelids  "  peutliouse  lids."      Macbetli,  a. 
1.  s.  3. 
V.  108.  As  some  cliff.] 

A  lake. 
That  to  the  fringed  bank  with  myrtle  crown'd 
Her  crystal  mirror  holds. 

3Iilton,  P.  L.  b.  iv.  263. 
V.  118.  My  view  ivith  ease.] 

Far  and  wide  his  eye  commands; 
For  sight  no  obstacle  found  here,  nor  shade. 
But  ail  sun-shine. 

Milton,  P.  L.  b.  iii.  GIG. 

V.  135.  Of  the  great  Harry.]    The  Emperor  Henry  VII.  who  died  iu 
1313. 
V.  141.  He.]    Pope  Clement  V.    See  Canto  XXVII.  53. 
V.  145.  Alagna's  }oricst.]    Pope  Boniface  VIII.  Hell,  Canto  XIX.  79. 

CANTO  XXXI. 

V.  6.  Bees.]  Compare  Homer,  Iliad,  ii.  87.  Virg.  JEn.  i.  430,  and  Mil- 
ton, P.  L.  b.  1.  7G8. 

V.  29.  Helice.]  Callisto,  and  her  son  Areas,  changed  into  tlie  constelhi' 
tions  of  the  Greater  Bear  and  Arctophylax,  or  Bootes.  Sec  Ovid,  INIet.  1. 
ii.  fal).  V.  vi. 

V.  93.  Bernard.]  St.  Bernard,  the  venerable  abbot  of  Clairvaiix.  :ind 
the  great  promoter  of  the  second  crusade,  who  died  a.d.  115.'!,  in  his 
sixty-third  year.  His  sermons  are  called  by  Honaiilt,  "  chefs-dVruvres 
do  sentiment  ct  de  force."  Abrege  Ciiron.  do  I'Hist.  de  Fi'.  ll-S.'i.  'I'lipy 
have  even  been  preferred  to  all  the  in'oductions  of  the  ancients,  and  tlie 
author  has  been  termed  the  last  of  the  fathers  of  the  churcli.  It  is  un- 
certain whether  they  were  not  delivered  originally  in  the  French  tongue. 
Ibid. 

That  tlie  part  he  acts  in  the  present  Poem  should  be  assigned  to  him, 
appears  somewhat  remarkable,  when  we  consider  that  he  severely  ceu- 


452  NOTES. 

[  tured  tlic  new  festival  established  in  honour  of  the  Immaculate  Concep- 

tion of  the  Vii'sin.  and  "  opjiosed  the  doctiine  itself  with  the  greatest 
vigonr,  as  it  siii)i)osod  her  heing  honoured  witli  a  privilege  wiiich  belonged 
so  Christ  alone."    Dr.  ]\laclaine's  Mosheini,  v.  iii.  cent.  xii.  p.  ii.  i.  ;5.  §"i<). 

V.  'J5.  Our  Veronica.]  The  holy  handkerchief,  then  i)reservcd  at 
Rome,  o!i  which  tho  couuteuance  of  our  Saviour  was  supposed  to  have 
been  imprest. 

V.  101.  ///Hi.]     St.  Bernard. 

V.  108.   The  queen.']    The  Virgin  Mary. 

V.  111).  Orijlumb.]  Menage  on  this  word  quotes  the  Roman  des  Royaua 
Liguages  of  Guillaume  Ghyart. 

Oriflamme  est  une  banniere 
De  cendal  roujoyant  et  simple 
Sans  portraiture'  d'autre  affaire. 

CANTO  xxxir. 

V.  3.  She.]    Eve. 

V.  8.  Ancestress.]    Ruth,  the  ancestress  of  David. 

V.  60.  In  holy  scriptwe.]    Gen.  c.  xxv.  22. 

V.  123.  Lucia.]    See  Hell,  Canto  U.  97. 

CANTO    XXXIII. 

V.  63.  TJie  Sybil's  sentejice.]    Virg.  ^n.  iii.  445. 

V.  89.  One  mo7nent.]  "A  moment  seems  to  me  more  tedious,  tnan 
five-and-twenty  ages  would  have  appeared  to  the  Argonauts,  when  tliev 
bad  resolved  on  their  expedition." 

v.  92.  Argd's  shadoio.] 

Qure  siraul  ac  rostro  ventosura  proscidit  a?quor, 
Tortaque  remigio  spuniis  Incanduit  unda, 
Emersere  feri  candenti  e  gurgite  vultus 
.ffiquoreai  monstrum  Nereides  admirantes. 

Catullus,  De  Nupt.  Pel.  et  Thet.  15. 

V.  109.  Tliree  orbs  of  triple  hue,  dipt  in  one  bomid.]    The  Trinity. 
V.  118.  That  circling.]    The  second  of  the  circles,  "  Light  of  Light,"  in 
which  he  dimly  beheld  the  mystery  of  the  iucaruatiou. 


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